Across the alley Chapter 1 and Subsequent Chapters

[caddymac]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 21

WOW! That was a different twist!

 

[harry113]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 31

Thanks Gary
All the cops seem to like a bit of tail !!!!
Great writing
Hugs
Harry

 

[upyrkilt469]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 31

As Harry says Gary, great writing. Looking forward to tormottow.
H&K
Vic

 

[kcm17480]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 31

Good show. I lliked the chian fuck.
Thsnks
Ken

 

[timnmostud]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 31

Oh, hell! It's all good! I have no idea where this is going or how it is all going to tie back to the original story, but I'm up for the ride each morning! Thanks!

 

[LaloGS]

Across the Alley Chapter 32

Across the Alley Chapter 32
By
LaloGS​

Fiction

Early the next morning, we ate some breakfast at the diner we'd met Steve and Pearly the night before, and hit the road with a full tank of gas, and the rising sun in our eyes. The day was glorious and the sky turned slowly from creamy yellows to a deep periwinkle blue accented here and there, with fluffy clouds outlined in blazing gold.

The car was running like a top, and we cruised along at fifty miles an hour singing popular songs at the top of our lungs. After a hour on the road, with the sun already high in the sky, I decided I wanted another driving lesson. We pulled over onto the shoulder of the two lane highway, and traded places. I put the car in gear, and killed the engine a couple of times, before I was able to ease the clutch off the floor and get the car rolling forward. I drove along the shoulder for a ways, while Michael kept watch on the traffic coming up behind me.

"Okay, Davy," Michael urged. "Throw your signal arm out and pull into traffic now. I stuck my left arm out the window, and pulled onto the blacktop and started picking up speed. At about forty miles an hour, a truck came up behind us, and laid down on his air horn. I nearly pissed myself, as I hadn't noticed him barreling down on me in the rearview. He pulled around and went screaming past at sixty or seventy miles an hour. The shockwave of his passing, caused the wheel to jerk in my grip, and our car wobbled all over the road. A big Buick came whizzing past with its horn blaring, and I jerked the wheel and almost went off the road, throwing dust up from the shoulder.

"Maybe we ought to let you practice on a side road for a while," Michael's fingers gripping the dashboard, were white knuckled.

"I'll get the hang of it." I repositioned my butt and tried to relax my shoulders and arms, and settled into the process of getting the hang of driving. I still had a little trouble shifting gears, but at least I didn't kill the motor again. After several minutes, we were sailing along at fifty smoothly, and I began to enjoy the power of the old car under my control for the first time.

The feeling of freedom learning to drive gave me was immense. As we rolled across the New Mexican landscape, I began to fantasize the future that waited for us in New York. In Santa Fe, we ate Mexican food for the last time, because I knew from my experience in Kansas City that it wouldn't be available in the East. At dawn, after driving all night, we crossed over Raton Pass, with a struggling engine, and then coasted all the way down to Kansas. The high prairie was enveloped in a dense rainy fog, and we came to a little town called Elkhart, and stopped for breakfast. We both at a big helping of ham and eggs and biscuits and honey, and must have drunk a gallon of coffee each.

Later that morning, with Michael driving, we pulled off the road outside of Dodge City under a clearing sky, and rested under a roadside tree the State had used to anchor a picnic table to with a heavy chain. That hadn't stopped the vandals from carving it up with knives and hatchets. The ground was littered with trash and used condoms. We didn't care, we were so tired from driving all night, that we slept upright in the front seats remembering the previous time when we had fallen asleep in the back seat and were discovered by the cops.

As we slept, the sun traversed across the sky and set brilliantly in the West. The air cooled, and sometime later, the hoot of an owl in the tree, woke us asking who we were. We laughed about it at the time, but hunger, drove us on, and after eating in Dodge city, we continued on into the night. It was nearing dawn again when we rolled into Kansas City. The streets were deserted, except for the occasional milk truck or paperboy makingdeliveries. I didn't want to spend any time there, so we made our way out of town and headed for St. Louis, Missouri. The flat tree covered farmlands of Missouri rolled past the window and the only reason we ever had to stop was to get food or gas.

St. Louis was overpowered by the impact of the mighty Mississippi's broad muddy roil made us stop and find a place to watch the thick chocolate water roll by. The city on the Western shore, seemed dirty and gray by comparison. There was something of Mark Twain that appealed to us, and we watched it for a long time, our tired eyes catching every little piece of flotsam that rolled downstream in the liquid mud.

We slipped across Illinois in the dark and had no impression of that State. It wasn't until we reached Indianapolis, that we decided to stop in a motel for the night. By then we were running on empty and needed a good night's sleep in a real bed. We got some burgers at a diner, and checked into a sleazy little motel and crashed about eight o'clock that night. It wasn't until an hour or so later, that the rocking springs on the bed in the next room woke us. Somebody was getting fucked, and now that we were awake, we could hear the moans and gasped demands of a woman begging the man to let her have it with his big cock. We laid there listening, and began to admire the stamina of the stud doing the job next door. He must have gone at it for nearly an hour before his guttural moan signaled he was filling her cunt with his jizz.

"Suck it clean baby," his pleading voice trying to get the woman to suck him off caused us both to laugh.

"I ain't suckin' that dirty thing Mister." The woman sounded tired, but determined not to help him out.

"Please baby. I want to feel your mouth on my dick. See baby it likes you."

"Get that thing away from my face."

"Bitch!" The woman screamed and something thumped on the floor.

"You son-of-a bitch!" The woman's screech tore the night like a wild monkey. "Give me my money asshole!"

Michael and I were laughing out loud by then when we realized it was a hooker and her trick. Somewhere else, probably from the room on the other side, we could hear somebody pounding on the wall, a faint voice yelling for the stud to pay the bitch so he could get some sleep.

"You come over here and tell me that cock sucker!" The stud was getting heated.

"Suck my ass," faintly.

"What the fuck you say?" Something loud banged against the wall in the other room. Possibly a fist crashing through the thin plasterboard construction.

"Holy shit," faintly. "Take it easy buddy. I'm just tryin' to get some sleep."

"Pay me my money asshole!" the whore chimed in again. Then screamed and the door banged open and we could hear her high heels clickty clacking away from the motel. Her wails echoed through the night, and she kept threatening to get her big black pimp on the john’s ass for not paying. After a while, things quieted down except we could clearly hear the stud in the next room breathing heavily.

"Come back here and blow me bitch!" he yelled suddenly, and then all was quiet again.

When we finally awoke the next morning, the sun was shining brightly, and after showering together, we made love for an hour before showering again, and then hitting the road starving for a decent breakfast. By noon, it was raining steadily, and we drove on taking turns at the wheel on for two hours and off for two hours. Our excitement was growing and we determined we would drive straight through to New York by taking turns and spelling each her so we wouldn't get so tired.

It was near midnight the next day, when we went through a tunnel, and came out in a big city. We were bleary from driving and weren't sure where we were. Where ever it was, it was busy even at midnight. At a stop light, I rolled down my window and asked a truck driver where we were. He laughed at me, and then pointed to a tall building on the corner we were sitting, and told me to look up at it. When I did, he told me it was the Empire State Building. A thrill washed over me, and I told Michael we were in New York. I made him stop, and we got out and looked up at the impossibly tall building in front of us. We bought hot dogs from a little rolling stand on one corner, and craned our necks trying to see the top of the buildings, lost in the slightly pink clouds above us.

We were too excited to sleep, so we parked the car on 33rd street, and got our money out of the trunk, and went exploring. There was one shock after another for us as we saw people going down into the ground. When we explored we found there were trains underground. A cop told us it was the subway. It seemed like he was talking a different language, and it took us a while to grasp that he was speaking English with some sort of funny accent.

A little further West, we came to a big building with a street on either side of it. The buildings on either side of the streets, were covered with big billboards. One of the huge billboards was a giant Cowboy puffing on a cigarette and blowing real smoke into the night air. Up at the end of the big city canyon, a big sign made out of flashing lights, was advertising Coke, and under it a brightly lighted billboard advertising fold out sofa beds. Big movie theaters were lined up along either side of the canyon, and people were walking everywhere just like it was daylight.

One of the theaters was showing porno films, and we decided to go in to see what they were like. Neither of us had ever seen one before. The ticket seller, was also the ticket taker, and after he took our money, he tore the tickets in half and pushed them through the little half moon window to us before he ever looked up.

"Hey," he shouted. "No kids in there!" We grabbed our ticket stubs and ran into the theater. The lobby was dark except for some lights in a series of posters advertising coming attractions. All of the movies being advertised, were for straight sex, but since neither of us had ever experienced straight sex, we decided it would be educational at least, so we pushed through some heavy curtains into the theater itself. We thought we should hide in the darkness in case the ticket seller came looking for us or there was another person working that would catch us and throw us out.

On the screen, a thirty foot cock was pumping in and out of a thirty foot twat, and the twat was oozing clear liquid that was running between her ass cheeks in a four foot wide river of slime. It was disgusting to watch, but at the same time it was captivating. We slipped into a dark spot in the back row right under the projection booth, and slumped down in the seat to watch.

The cunt on the screen was grunting like a pig as the huge cock stroked in and out faster and faster. Suddenly, the cock pulls out of the slimy cunt, and the scene switches to a medium shot and the guy begins jerking himself off over the woman's belly. After a moment, he squirts his load on her, and she moans like she's getting something out of it. He came quite a bit, but after he finished, he stands up next to the bed, and the scene changes to a woman and two men, all naked, and she's on her knees, sucking both guys in turn. Her technique wasn't much to write home about, but at least she had the guys hard.

After this suck job had gone on for a little while, she pushes one of the men down on his back on the bed, and climbs up over him and sticks his cock in her cunt and sits on it. The guy starts pumping her up and down while the second guy gets up on the bed and she starts sucking him again. After a bit of this, she lifts herself off the cock she's riding, and stuffs it into her asshole. She slides down on it all the way, and then leans back on the guy's chest, and he starts pinching and kneading her big tits. The guy who was getting blown, gets down and feeds his dick into her sloppy cunt. The camera moves in between their legs and does a close-up of the two dicks
fucking in and out of her two holes at the same time.

A man pushed through the heavy curtains, and stood looking around the darkened theater. By then, our eyes had totally adjusted to the light in the theater, and we could see the heads of several men sitting here and there isolated in the theater. The guy in the isle, turned and looked in our direction, and then bent slightly and squinted at us in the dark. A smile spread over his lips, and he stepped into the row of seats where we were sitting. He moved down to within a seat of us, and sat down.

For a while, we thought he might be going to throw us out, but he seemed to be watching the film, so we relaxed and went back to watching ourselves. The guy fucking her cunt pulled out, and jacked himself off onto her belly, then when he was finished, the guy fucking her ass pulled his dick out, and the first guy, grabbed the big swollen dick and started jacking it for his buddy. He soon had it squirting a massive load of jizz high in the air on screen.

"That's fuckin' hot. Isn't it?" The guy sitting next to us muttered, looking at us.

"Yeah," Michael said. "It is."

"You guys ever do anything like that?" The guy slipped into the seat next to Michael.

"Nah," Michael said, and looked at him briefly before turning back to the screen. On screen the scene had changed again, and there were two guys fully dressed sitting on a couch drinking beer and talking. The sound wasn't very clear, but it sounded like they were talking about going out and finding some pussy.

One finally said he had a phone number a buddy had given him and maybe they should call it to see what happened. They finally agreed, and the guy dug his billfold out and took out a slip of paper and picked up the phone on the end table next to the couch. When a woman's voice answered his call, the screen split in half and we could see the woman sitting there on a couch with another woman.

After some small talk, the woman asked the guy where he'd gotten her number. He told her his buddy Jim had given it to him and told him if he ever needed a fuck, to call her. She didn't hang up, so we knew they were going to get together. The scene didn't take long to get them together. The guys were standing in a hall suddenly, knocking on a door. The both were playing with their hardons in their pants, and the screen split again, and inside the apartment, the two women were naked already, and the one who had been talking on the phone, was eating the other woman's twat out. When they heard the knock on the door, they stopped, and went to answer the door together.

The guy next to us, put his hand on his knee, and whispered that they were going to get really hot in a minute because he'd seen it before. His hand moved from his knee to Michael's thigh. He looked down at Michael, and smiled when Michael didn't push his hand off. Michael leaned over and whispered something to him, and the guy took his hand off his thigh and put it into his own lap again. For a while, he watched the action get started on the screen.

The two women were stripping off the guy's pants and sucking their cocks for them. Michael leaned over to David, and told him he'd told the guy we would go with him for a hundred bucks. David nodded. The guy was still thinking it over.

He leaned over, and asked Michael if we could go to the toilet downstairs for thirty dollars, because it was all he had on him. We whispered about it for a minute and then agreed. He stood up and we followed a few paces behind him. He pushed back through the heavy curtain, and led us to a stairwell that was nearly pitch black. He started down like he'd done it on a regular basis. Michael and I had to feel our way down so we didn't trip. At the bottom, there was a little more light coming from some small blue bulbs that were spaced a yard apart up near the ceiling. The guy opened a door and went in. When we got to the door, it was labled `Women'. We
hesitated for a moment, and the guy opened the door again and told us it was all right, because there were no women in the theater, and that we'd have more privacy in the women's toilet than we would in the men's room.

We followed him in, and inside, there was still more light coming from regular light bulbs over head in metal baskets. The guy was about thirty years old, and dressed in a long black overcoat. He went into a stall, and took off his overcoat. He hung it over the top of the partition separating the stall from the next one. Davy nudged Michael, and pointed to the hole between the stalls, at dick height, and they both chuckled. The guy dropped his pants, and he wasn't wearing underwear. His dick was hard and about seven inches long and thick. He unbuttoned his shirt, and his chest was covered with a mat of dark hair.

"Pay us first," Michael said, and the guy took out his billfold, and took out a twenty and two fives. He still had a dollar in the fold, and said he had to keep that to get home on the subway. He put his wallet away, and sat back on the seat of the stool, and pushed his big dick forward.

"Get on your knees, and both of you suck my dick." We did as we were told, and took turns going from top to bottom and back again to the top. We also took turns slipping his cock head into our mouths and sliding his shaft down our throats. He was soon moaning under our attention, and leaned back pinching his hairy tits as hard as he could.

"One of you suck my cock, and the other one come up here and bite my tits. Michael continued to suck him, and Davy got up on his legs and bent over and began biting the guy's nipples.

"Harder boy. I like it hard. Make `em hurt. Leave teeth marks for me to remember you by." He was breathing hard and gasping now and then as the sensations we were causing in his body shook him to the core. He began grappling with Davy's pants, and soon had them down around his ankles. Davy was hard as a rock, and the guy bent over to the side and swallowed Davy's cock to the hair line, and started sucking him madly.

Michael stood up and dropped his pants, and the guy grabbed his raging cock, and started going from Davy to Michael, sucking like a madman. After a few minutes of this, he moaned he wanted to fuck us. Michael told him he couldn't unless he paid the freight charge.

He moaned again, and said he had to fuck us, but didn't have any more money on him. It seemed a stand off, so Michael asked him if he wanted to be sucked to climax, and the guy nodded sadly. Davy felt sorry for him, and after Michael had sucked him for a while, and had his big cock glistening with spit, Davy pushed Michael off the guy's dick and then straddled him and sat back and down on his thick dick.

The guy groaned his pleasure, and began to fuck Davy hard. Michael stood again, and started jerking his cock. He stood slightly to the side, and stroked his tool aiming it at the guy's face, which was twisted in pleasure as he plowed Davy's asshole. Davy started jacking his stiff cock, and it wasn't long before he started spraying his spunk all over the door of the stall. Michael let fly and painted the guy's face with several ropes of cum that dripped and slid down his nose and lips while the guy tried to lick it off with his tongue extended as far as he could.

He shoved his cock deep up into Davy's ass, and grunted his load into his tight steamy tunnel. We all relaxed with the cum, and gradually felt our hardness softening. The guy's dick slipped out of Davy's asshole, and they all pulled on their clothes again.

The guy asked where they lived, and Michael explained they were new to New York, and hadn't found a place to stay yet. They talked about it for a while, and the guy invited them to stay in his loft for a week or so until they could find something. He promised to pay them for any sex, and they could pay him for any food they ate, but the place to sleep would be free. The guy was a painter, and was sort of well known in the art world. When he found out Davy was interested in writing, he traded his old portable typewriter for another fuck one morning while Michael was out looking for an apartment.

It took them a week to track down a vacant apartment they thought they could afford, and they shook hands with Robert, the artist, and moved into their new place on Houston Street, across the street from Katz's Deli, with the dried sausages hanging in the window with the sign that told passers by to `Send a Salami to their boy in the Army.'

The second morning they were in their own place, their car got towed away, because they had overslept. Michael decided they didn't need it any more, and it was more trouble than it was worth. The let it go, and set about figuring out how they were going to earn a living in this huge city. They went to see Robert, and asked his opinion. He suggested they start hanging out on corners in certain areas of the Village. He walked with them to show them where, and it wasn't long before they each had a customer.

Life on the Lower East Side was fun and exotic. The delis and markets on Essex Street made living cheap and easy. Their rent was a hundred bucks a month and the apartment was situated so they could each bring tricks back to the pad if they needed to, and still have privacy if it was needed.

Days, while Michael slept, Davy sat at the Formica table in the kitchen, and wrote stories. He always asked Michael to read them, and Michael was always honest about what he thought. Mostly they all went into the trash and were sent down the dumbwaiter to the basement every afternoon to be dumped into the larger trash collection by the by the building's Super, an old Puerto Rican man who spoke almost no English.

Over the months they slowly furnished the apartment, and Robert gave them a small painting for their living room wall as a gift. One day, Michael read the latest story Davy had written, over his first cup of coffee. He read it through and then looked into Davy's expectant face.

"This is good Davy. Let's ask Robert to read it and see what he thinks. Later that night, Davy pulled the folded story out and pushed it across the table in Robert's loft. Over wine, he read it while the boys waited quietly sipping their wine, trying to acquire the taste for it.

Robert thought it was a hot story and suggested Davy try to publish it. Davy had no idea how to go about getting it published, so Robert gathered together several gay magazines, and told Davy to write to them and submit the story for publication. He told Davy how to format the type double spaced on the page, and to put his name and address at the top so if they liked it, they would know who had written it. He also told him to include a self addressed envelope and a stamp in case they didn't like it so they would return the story to him.

Davy followed the instructions and mailed off the story the next day. He waited anxiously for weeks, often waiting in the foyer of the apartment house for the mailman to deliver his mail. The day the letter arrived, Davy had just turned eighteen the day before. Inside the envelope, which he was almost afraid to open, he found a letter form the editor of the magazine that said the story would appear in the next issue, and that the magazine had assigned him a nom de plume. Michael didn't know what that meant, and Robert finally was able to enlighten him. He was going to be published under an assumed name.

When the magazine hit the newsstands, Michael had to buy the copy, because Davy was too scared to buy it for himself. They searched the contents, and Davy learned his nom de plume was Stony Austin. But he was a published author. His head and heart swelled with pride at what he'd accomplished, and he immediately mailed off another story to the same magazine editor. The mail the next day was a large manila envelope addressed to Davy from the magazine. Inside, was a copy of the issue with his story, and a long business sized envelope with a letter from the editor and a check for three hundred dollars.

He used the check to open a bank account, and decided he would put all of his money earned from his writing there and never touch it until he was ready to quit hustling his body for money. That night, they celebrated with a big meal in Little Italy, and a night of making love to each other.

It was another six months before another magazine published another of Davy's stories, but then almost immediately, the first magazine published another one. After that, he published at least one story a month, and often had several in print at the same time. He felt good about his writing, but he noticed Michael was feeling less happy as time went on.

One day he came in from shopping for food, and Michael, who had been sleeping late from his night of hustling, was sitting at the kitchen table. His arm was bound with a tie, and he'd just injected himself with something.

"Michael What are you doing?" Davy dropped the bag of groceries on the counter and rushed to Michael. His eyes were already rolling back in his head, and his drooping head began to nod slightly on his limp neck.

"Michael, Michael. How long has this been going on?" Michael was oblivious to Davy, and floated away into his own world. Davy sat beside him hugging him closely, tears streaking his cheeks.

End​

 

[harry113]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 32

Gary Thank you
So very sad ..... It is so easy to get hooked, but hell to get out of !!!!
Great writing
Hugs
Harry

 

[LaloGS]

Across the Alley Chapter 33

Across the Alley Chapter 33
By
LaloGS​

Fiction


"Michael you bastard!" Davy was incensed with himself more than he was angry at Michael. He understood immediately that Michael was hooked, and although he had been good for some time, the heroin was always calling him back. He, David, had been so enthralled with New York; he hadn't been paying attention to Michael. They had both been working the streets for money, and often they didn't see each other for a day or two. They always seemed tired, because they weren't getting much sleep.

When you trick all night, and try to sleep during the day, the city noise took care of most of the good restful sleep they needed. The city was taking its toll on both of them. Somewhere, Michael had met up with a supply of drugs, and couldn't resist.

"Michael, Wake up!" Davy pulled the tie off his lover's arm, and Michael's head lolled back on his shoulder. Davy lifted his arm, and put it over his neck, and pulled the sagging body up out of the kitchen chair. Michael mumbled a protest, but Davy ignored him and began to walk and drag him up and down the hall of the apartment that lead from the kitchen to the bedrooms and living area. "Come on you son of a bitch. You promised me you wouldn't take any more." The two struggled through the apartment, until Davy got the idea to dump Michael in the huge old claw foot bathtub and run cold water over him. He stripped Michael and manoeuvred him into the tub, and plugged the drain with the rubber seal, and turned the cold water on full blast. Michael gasped and began shivering immediately, his skin and lips turning blue. He tensed up, and vomited into the water that was rising. David retched in sympathy, but kept massaging his lover trying to get him to focus on him instead of the drug coursing through his system.

Michael moaned a long despairing sound that filled the room with dread. David began to cry silently the tears flowing down his cheeks and falling into the swirling cold water. Michael shivered and shook violently as the cold water enveloped his body in a freezing blanket of wet. David turned the water off, and the room fell silent except for the occasional drip of a tear falling into the now still water. Michael shivered, causing the surface of the water to quake with tiny wavelets that vibrated electrically against the porcelain of the tub.
David looked up through his tears and out the small window into the air shaft that was shared by the building next door. An old woman was watching them, her bony fingers gripping and releasing her thin leathery arm. Her hair was long and gray, coarse looking and stringy over her face. David shut his eyes, and when he opened them again after wishing hard for her to be gone, she was. He dropped to his knees next to the tub, and took Michael's head in his arms and hugged him close. Michael murmured something he couldn't understand, and shivered violently sending the water splashing against the tub. His body suddenly relaxed, and David felt a howl of despair erupt from his own lungs and fill the tiny bathroom.

Michael was dead weight, and David had a difficult time getting him up out of the tub and then had to drag his body into the bedroom and onto the mattress on the floor. He covered him in the thin blanket to help stop the shivering, but it didn't help. Michael's skin was blue and pimpled with goose bumps from head to toe. David took off his own wet clothes, and got under the cover, pulling Michael's shivering body as close as he could. Michael felt cold and clammy next to his own heated skin, and he willed his body warmth into Michael, and slowly, gradually, the shivering lessened, and finally Michael began to breathe normally, and after a bit, David heard a slight snore.

Michael was sitting up leaning against the wall, with his hand on his shoulder when David opened his eyes. There was a flat blank look in Michael's eyes when he sat up and looked into them. He leaned over and kissed Michael on the lips, and it felt like a dead fish had been pressed against his mouth. The lips were cold and unresponsive to the warmth of David's kiss.
"Michael?" He saw the dead eyes flicker at him, then turn away. "What's wrong Michael?" Michael rolled away from him, and laid back down on the mattress with his back to Davy.

"I'm tired," he whispered. "I know." David put a hand on Michael's hip, and massaged him lightly, caressing the now warmer skin. "Maybe we should take a few days off the street. We have enough money put away to take a week off." Michael didn't respond.

"Maybe we could take the train somewhere. Boston, Philadelphia, or maybe long Island." Michael remained silent.
"Are you hungry?" David crawled out of the bed and pulled on his pants. Since they hadn't bought curtains for the place, the old ladies in the next building had a field day spying on them if they walked through the apartment nude. They seemed to have some sixth sense the boys were on parade, because the windows filled up with staring faces almost immediately.

He went into the kitchen, and looked in the fridge. There was not much there, and what there was, was stale looking. Back in the bedroom, he put on his shoes, and pulled a shirt over his head, and told Michael he was going out to get some bagels and cream cheese. Michael grunted, but did not stir otherwise.

Across the street, he ducked into the Jewish Deli and asked the counter man for a pound of cream cheese a dozen bagels mixed and two large coffees regular, which he'd had to learn that in New York, meant nearly white with cream and sticky sweet with sugar. He picked up a copy of the Times, and paid the man and headed back to the apartment. By the time he got back, Michael was gone. David felt a dread rise in his heart, and dropping the food and coffee on the floor beside the mattress, he ran out of the apartment, leaving the door ajar in his rush. On the sidewalk he looked in both directions, but Michael wasn't to be seen. He ran to the nearest corner which was Avenue A, and looked down toward the Essex Street Market, then up toward Tompkins Square, but nothing of Michael could be seen. He turned and ran as fast as he could to First Avenue and looked uptown. Nothing but the usual crowd of old Russian Jews mixed with a few Italians and Puerto Ricans. Michael was nowhere to be seen. He sat down on the curb and felt the tears well up in his eyes.

A man came out of a coffee shop on the corner, and walked over to him. He bent and put his hand on David's neck. "What's the matter boy? It can't be all that bad." David began to sob uncontrollably. "Where do you live? I'll walk you home." The man tried to lift David up by hooking him under the armpits with his hands. David stood on weak legs, and cried on the man's shoulder.

"So where do I take you kid?" David tried to stop crying, realizing that people were staring at him now. He pointed down toward Houston, but couldn't speak through his sobs. The man started to walk with him, but David felt too weak with his loss to take more than a few steps.

"Say," the man said. "Why don't you come to my place? I'm just around the corner here. We can call your folks to come and get you. How's that sound?" David nodded, and the guy turned them around, and soon had David up a flight of stairs and into his small apartment.

Inside, he sat David down in a kitchen chair, and poured him a glass of orange juice. David drank it gratefully, and set the empty glass on the table. The man looked at him, and when he thought he'd calmed enough asked for his folk's telephone number. David looked at him for the first time. He was about thirty or so, and dressed in a suit and tie. The suit looked a bit worn and shiny, but was well cut and fitted him nicely. He mulled over in his mind what to tell this kind stranger. Finally, taking a wracking deep breath, and clearing the tears out of his voice, he thanked him for helping, and then told him he didn't have any folks to call.
"No?" The man was surprised. "What are you seventeen, eighteen years old?" David nodded.

"Left home already?"

"Since I was seventeen." David looked into his kind eyes, wondering how much he could tell him.

"Jeeze kid. That must be rough. Alone in the world that young. How you makin' out?"

"Fine."

"I mean, you can't be working for a living. Somebody might hire you for grunt work, but it doesn't pay enough to make it in New York."
"I'm a writer," David blurted. "No shit?" The guy offered him some more orange juice, but David shook his head. "Publish anything?" David nodded. "No fuckin' way kid."

"I've published several stories this past year in magazines."

"Really. Now that I'd like to see. I'm a writer too, but never had much published. I work as an editor at a book house to make ends meet. Mostly I write at night."

"Yeah?" David found himself interested in spite of himself.

"What do you write?" The guy poured himself a glass of juice using David's glass. "Gay stuff."

"You gay?" David nodded again. "Me too." He put out his hand to shake. David took it and they gripped each other tightly. "My name's Elton."

"David." Elton held David's hand longer than he should have, and David saw the look in his eyes that he'd come to know as sexual hunger. "You got a place to stay?" David nodded again, and Elton took a swallow of juice. "If you would like, you could stay with me for a day or two. If you would like," he repeated hopefully. "I got a place on Houston across from Katz's Deli. My lover, just split. I've got to go find him, or at least stay around there in case he comes back." Elton absorbed this information, and nodded his head. "So you had a fight or somethin'?"

"Or somethin'." David looked out the window and watched a pair of pigeons billing and cooing on the window ledge. "You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Might do you some good to get it out."

"No."

"Suit yourself." He swallowed the rest of the juice and got up to wash the glass in the sink. When he finished, he dried it on a towel and put it away in the cabinet. "I'll walk you home to your place if you want." David stood up, and the two left his apartment, and walked in the early Spring sunshine to the building on Houston. David thanked Elton for being so kind, and left him on the front steps of the building. "I'll see you around. Okay?"

"Yeah. You know where I live." Elton saluted him with a finger to the brow, and watched him go through the door and into the dim hall beyond the second door. He noted that he'd used a key to get in so assumed that he actually must live there, and had not been trying to just dump him so he could get away.

David sat in the apartment for three days and three nights waiting and hoping Michael would come back. He ate the stale bagels, and wondered where Michael could have gotten off to. On the morning of the forth day, he was out of bagels, and cleaned himself up and went out on the street to get some breakfast. He headed for the little coffee shop where Elton had been when he'd found him crying on the curb. He sat on a stool at the counter, and ordered a three egg omelet with home fries and toast and orange juice and coffee. He was eating when Elton walked in the door. "Say bud. Waiting for me?" He was grinning broadly at David, and took the empty stool next to him. "The usual Jimmy," he said to the counter man, who set a cup of steaming black coffee in front of him.
David smiled with a mouthful of eggs and potatoes. He patted Elton's leg under the counter, and swallowed his food. "Good to see you man."

"How's things with your partner?" David had to think what he meant for a moment before he realized he was asking about Michael.
"Still no sign of him."

"You think he's going to come back?"

"I don't know. He's got some problems with me." Jimmy slid a plate of eggs and potatoes down the counter in front of Elton, and then set a plate with toast down and handed him a knife and fork.

"Thank you Jimmy." The cook tapped his forehead with his spatula, leaving a yellow greasy drip running down into his eyebrow. He wiped it away with a dirty towel, and shouted a greeting to a man that had just entered the shop."What kind of problems?" David looked at him for a moment before speaking. "He's hooked on dope, and I don't approve. I got him cleaned up and he stayed clean for a year, but the day you found me on the curb, he had shot up again. I thought he'd overdosed himself, he was so out of it, and I did some stuff that ruined his nod, so the first chance he got he split. For all I know he might be dead now." Elton winced at the word dead. "I hope for your sake he's not. Do you love him?" David nodded, and took a fork full of food and chewed slowly. He swallowed it down and took a swallow of juice to help it.

"I know he loves me, but I also know he loves his horse more than he does me. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone back to it." Elton was eating and listening. "Yeah," he mumbled through a mouthful of toast and jam. "I've known a few hypes. They do love their drug." They ate in silence for a while, and when they got down to drinking their coffee after their plates were clean and Jimmy had taken them away, David asked Elton what kind of stuff he wrote. "Novels mostly. I'm working on one now, that I think is pretty good. I've written several others, but after thinking about them I've thrown them away."
"I write porn for gay rags."

"I know. You told me. What should I look for? Do you use your own name?"

"No. I publish under Stony Austin, and they seem to like my work. I doubt if they would publish me if they knew how old I was."
"Probably not. Stony, eh...I think I have one of your stories up at my place." He named the magazine. "Yeah. It's mine."
"Shit Davy. That was one hot story. Where did you learn enough about queer sex to write that scene in the hotel room?"
"I've been a hustler for the past three years. It happened just like I wrote it. Some editor wrote me a note once when I was just starting to publish, that I should only write from experience and about what I know best. What I know best is hustling men for money."
"Really?" David looked at him again, and saw the sex hunger in his eyes.

"You know Elton, I owe you something for helping me the other day."

"No you don't."

"I do. If you have the time, I could pay you back right now for being so kind."
"Not necessary kid."

"But I want to."

"I don't expect anything for helping you."

"I know you don't, but I want to do it with you anyway." Elton looked at him for a long moment, and then slid off his stool."I gotta make a quick call to tell the office I'll be late." He walked to the phone booth at the back of the shop, and stood dialing a number while he glanced at David who was watching him. He adjusted his cock with his free hand, and then spoke into the phone. He hung the receiver up, and David could see he had a hardon in his pants as he walked back toward where he was sitting. He had to be horny as hell.
Elton dropped a five dollar bill on the counter, and told Jimmy to keep the change. They left together, and headed to Elton's place which was closer. Inside his front door, Elton took David in his arms and kissed him passionately. When he broke the kiss, he told David he'd been dreaming of doing that to him since they had met.

They quickly stripped out of their clothes, and David took Elton's cock in his hand, and dropped to his knees. Elton moaned with the pleasure of the boy's mouth on his stiffness, and started humping his hips pushing his cock in and out of David's mouth. "Let me cum in you mouth first, and then I'll be able to last longer when I fuck you. I haven't had sex in weeks, and I'm ready to blow my nuts right now." David sucked him diligently, taking him down to the hair several times, letting his saliva leak out of his mouth and run down his hairy nuts where it collected in the hair and dripped off onto his chin. Elton held his head gripped tightly in his large hands, and fucked the boy's mouth hard for several seconds. He stiffened up suddenly, and David felt the wet ballsack pull up tight, and then the tube on the underside of the stiff cock in his throat, pulsed, and he pulled back and took the first shot of Elton's cum across his tongue. Elton had been right about being horny. He shot seven gushes of cum into David's throat before he finally pulled out and lifted him up to kiss him again using his tongue to probe and taste his own cum in David's mouth.

He took the boy to his bedroom then, and they lay on the bed for a while, feeling and playing with each other's bodies until Elton's thick cock was standing high again. David spit on the head of the purple monster, and sat down on it feeling himself penetrated for the first time in days. His own cock was hard as stone, and Elton took it in his hand and jacked him to the fuck motions his hips were throwing into David's ass.

David reveled in the act, with his eyes closed tightly and his head thrown back facing the ceiling of the room, and gave himself over to being fucked long and hard by his new friend. Elton turned him over somewhere in the middle of the fuck, and plowed back into him and went to work making every nerve in David's body tingle with lust. David lost count of the number of thrusts in his ass, and then realized that it was a pattern he fallen into when he was being fucked by a trick. Counting the thrusts of the guy's dick in and out of his hole was a way to pass the time. At first, it didn't occur to him, but after he lost track of Elton's thrusts, he realized he was doing it. He felt grateful that Elton was a good enough lover that he's been able to lose himself in the fuck.

When he came the first time, Elton had captured the spunk in his palm and had eaten it without stopping or even slowing his thrusting. David wanted to keep fucking, and told him to keep at it until he could cum again. The second time, Elton was ready to blow his second load as well, and when they peaked and the flood of semen began to pump out of their respective cocks, Elton pulled out of his asshole, and grabbing his thick piece of meat, he jerked his load onto David's belly where he was busily depositing his own. When they were finished, Elton leaned over and sucked up the hot semen with his lips, and then lay down across David's body and kissed him sharing the combined cum with him.

Afterward, Elton showered and dressed, and told David he'd like to see him again, and maybe take him out to dinner and a movie or something. David told him it would have to be a week night because he worked the streets on weekends. They settled on Wednesday night, and the two left the apartment together. Elton going to work late, and David home to the apartment.

When David got back to the apartment, Michael was there throwing some of his things into his bag. The two just stared open mouthed at each other for a long moment, before Michael zipped up the bag and dropped it to the floor. He opened his arms for David to come to him, and David did, tears in his eyes. "I've got to go now," Michael whispered to him. "Why?" David tried to look at his face, but Michael held his head too tightly against his chest. "I just do Davy. I'm no good for you anyway. I found somebody else."
"Who?"

"Just somebody."

"Is he a pusher?"

"None of your business."

"You sleeping with him for drugs?" Michael nodded and David felt the slight movement with his ear."Fuck you Michael. Don't do this to me. I love you."

"And I love you, but I don't want to drag you down with me, and if we stay together, I will. You have a future as a writer, but me? I'm just a two bit street whore hooked on dope. I'll waste my life on the streets, and you can have more than that." He pushed David away and picked up his suitcase. David was crying hard, his sobs wracking his young body. "Don't cry Davy. I love you, and I'm leaving because I do. Can't you understand that?" David grabbed Michael's legs as he slipped to the floor, begging him through his sobs not to leave him alone. Michael pushed him away again, and disentangled his legs from David's grip. "I have to go now." He turned and walked a few steps toward the door before stopping and turning back to the crying boy, now laying on the dirty floor.

"Say Davy? Can you loan me a few bucks for old time sake. I'm tapped out right now, and need to get myself straight." Davy screamed incoherently at him, and rolled over screaming for him to get out. The door slammed and Davy lay there sobbing for a long time. Finally, he had cried all he could, and got up and stripped off his clothes and climbed into the big claw foot tub and ran a hot bath. As he soaked his misery away, he watched the old woman watching him through the tiny window without caring. Afterward, he slept until nearly midnight, and then dressed and hit the streets. It was a slow night, but he finally hooked up with a man who said he was a school teacher from Queens. They went back to the apartment, because the trick didn't have enough money to pay for a room, and needed to get off and back home because he had classes the next morning. He was wearing a wedding band, and when David asked about his wife, he said she had left him for another man just a few weeks before.

Curious, David asked if he knew why she left. The man started to cry suddenly, and blubbered on David's shoulder until David was blubbering along with him. When they finally were able to stop, the teacher said he wasn't good in bed with women, and she had gone off with a man she had cruelly told him was a better fuck. He told David he's sworn off pussy and would only sleep with men from then on.

After he was gone, David mulled over what he'd said, and muttered under his breath that if he was only going to sleep with men from now on, he'd better practice his technique, because Davy had thought about Elton the entire time the teacher had been humping his butt hole like he was drilling for oil.
David folded the fifty dollar bill the teacher had left on the mattress, and tucked it under the pillow, and rolled over and slept soundly for the first time in days.

End​

 

[upyrkilt469]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 33

Gary I like the way the story is going. It seems there is a new twist each day. Keep it cumming.
H&K
Vic

 

[harry113]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 33

So sad about Michael, but what he said about pulling David down with him was true.
Thanks Gary, wonderfully written
Hugs
Harry

 

[LaloGS]

Across the Alley Chapter 34

Across the Alley Chapter 34
By
LaloGS​

Fiction


David supported himself for several years with money earned from the
streets. His writing became polished, and after he wrote an article about a
series of gay related murders in and around the docks on the West side of
the Village, he became sort of famous. The Village Voice gave him a by
line, and after his first years worth of articles in the Voice was published
as a collection, he was approached by a major publisher to write a series of
books on gay life for the mass market. The advance was so substantial, he
suddenly found himself in need of a financial advisor.

After a year of writing in his loft in SoHo, David decided he was lonely.
He had kept up his relationships with Robert and Elton, but after Michael
had left him, he hadn't taken anyone into his heart as a lover. In his
deepest self, he still loved Michael. Always did, and always would. He had
occasionally seen Michael on the streets, but he made a point of never
speaking to him, and Michael seemed so strung out, he didn't seem to
recognize David even once when they came face to face in the doorway of a
deli on Sheridan Square.

He avoided him thereafter if he saw him coming along the street, but he
hadn't needed to bother. Michael was a lost soul wandering the streets. He
once was with a trick himself, picked up in a bar on Christopher Street,
when as they exited, Michael was walking diagonally across the street
oblivious of the flow of traffic and blaring horns. The trick had snickered
and pointed him out to David.

"That cock sucker is a Skag Queen. I had her once, and her hole was so
loose, I kept slipping out on the river of cum." David left him standing on
the sidewalk with his mouth hanging open with the words David had muttered
in his ear still ringing.

"Fuck you asshole. He's my lover." David wanted to go after Michael, but
he didn't. He knew in his heart, he would be wasting his time, and only
making Michael's obviously miserable life more miserable in the long run.
It was less than a month after that incident that David stopped into the Gay
and Lesbian Center to give a talk, and saw a photo of Michael hanging on a
bulletin board. When he read the words under the devastated image of his
lost love, tears welled up in his eyes and he broke down into body wracking
sobs. Several people gathered around trying to figure out what his problem
was.

He got himself together, and dried his eyes and stopped his trembling
heart, and gave his talk about safety on the street. He was able to answer
a few questions from the audience of mixed gays and lesbians, but cut it
short. He thanked his hosts, and declined the offer of a coffee and
schmoose about gay issues at a local coffee shop, and walked out into the
darkened streets feeling more alone in the world than he ever had before.
He made his way through the streets to the Village police station where he
told the desk Sergeant he could identify a John Doe for them. The Sergeant
took him into a small room, and handed him a file folder with half a dozen
photocopies of unidentified dead. He looked through the file, a small boy,
found on the sidewalk outside an abandoned building in Harlem, his tiny
black head smashed on the sidewalk from the fall out of the building. A
woman found shot to death and floating in the river. She had been pregnant.
Two men found shot to death in their rented sedan in Brooklyn a gun fired
once in each of their hands. A very bloated body unidentifiable as male or
female found floating in the harbor. Michael beaten to death with what was
obviously a baseball bat from the size of the depressions in his skull.
Found on a rooftop in Little Italy.

He closed the file after removing the photocopy of Michael and after crying
silently for a while, he wiped his eyes, and took the folder of unidentified
dead to the desk Sergeant. He handed the folder across the high desk, and
looked again at the distorted head in the photocopy. Tears were still
glistening in his eyes, when he handed it over to the cop.

"He was once my lover." The cop took the photocopy and looked at it with a
grimace.

"How did you know to come in?" The cop laid the page aside and pulled a
log book over and picked up a pen.

"I saw the flyer at the Gay and Lesbian Center."

"Yeah?" He wrote something in the log. "I'm gonna have to ask you to
speak to a detective. You all right with that?"

"Sure." David was in a daze, but knew he had to finish what he'd started.
The Sergeant picked up a phone and spoke briefly to whoever had answered.
When he hung up, he wrote in the log again without speaking to David.

A man came down some stairs on the left side of the lobby, and came toward
the desk. He was dressed in a tired gray suit, and had a large coffee stain
on the front of his white shirt. His tie was hanging loose on his neck, and
slightly askew. He walked up to David and nodded at the desk Sergeant, who
handed him the photocopy record of Michael's distorted head .

"You the guy making the ID?" David nodded. "Come with me please." He
turned on his heel and sauntered toward the stairs. David followed him a
few steps behind. In the detective's room which was like a collective
office for several men some of who were present, and some not, the man in
the suit pointed at a chair beside a worn and cigarette burned wooden desk.
He took the seat behind the desk, and pulled a beaten old typewriter from
the edge of the work area front and center. He opened a drawer in the desk,
and flipped through several files until he found the one he wanted. He
pulled a sheet of paper out, and fed it into the typewriter. When he was
finished, he looked at David for the first time, and stared at him like a
shark observing a meal.

"I'm Detective Malloy. Can I get you some coffee?" David shook his head,
and closed his stinging eyes. "Good. Then I have a few questions for you
and we can get this over with quickly." He picked up the photocopy he'd
laid image down on his desk while he'd prepared the statement form in the
typewriter. His grimace before he laid the paper image down again told
David it was as horrible to look at as he'd thought.

"Can I have your name?" David told him in a dead voice.

"Relationship to the deceased?" David's voice seemed to drone out of him
without his personal attention.

The typewriter cracked, and the dead words were recorded.

"When did you last see the deceased?" David had to think hard, and then
remembered the incident, now several months old, standing on the street with
the trick who had called Michael the Skag Queen.

The process took a half hour, and when it was over, David found
himself on the street in front of the Police Station, bewildered and lost.
He decided he didn't want to be alone, so he found a pay phone, and called
Elton. He told him where he was, and asked him to come and get him. He
stood on the corner examining his broken heart, and blaming himself for not
going after Michael the last time he'd seen him. It was painfully obvious
he needed help, and David had not been able to give it. Various scenarios
played out in his mind while he waited for Elton to get to him, and by the
time the yellow cab pulled to the curb and Elton stepped out, David had made
some basic changes in his life.

Elton took him home, and let him cry out his grief. It took three days for
it to subside enough for him to think about claiming the body and having it
cremated. When that was done, he found a fine Chinese Ginger Jar in an
antique shop on upper Madison Avenue, and carefully poured the ashes from
the shiny metal canister that the Crematorium had given him. He used a
scented wax candle to seal the jar of Michael's ashes, and said a brief
prayer over the sealed jar, and promised Michael that they would be together
always. After that, he called his lawyer and had a rider placed on his will
that he was to be buried with the antique ginger jar when he died.

He asked Elton to take a vacation with him, and together they flew out of
Kennedy to Europe, but David couldn't get Michael out of his mind, so after
a lackluster tour of Amsterdam, they got on the plane and flew back to New
York. Elton felt he had to get back to his job, which was now Editor in
Chief of one of the major publishing houses, and the publisher of David's
books. A new one was nearing publication, after a year out of David's
processor, and Elton needed to be there to guide it through the process.
David was depressed, and couldn't stay in Manhattan.

David took a plane to Las Vegas, hoping that a few days of gambling or seeing
a few shows would bring him out of his funk, but it too proved to be a false
Chimera. He rented a car, and drove down to see the canyon country, and
ultimately the Grand Canyon. On the lip of that massive geological wonder,
early one morning, he decided he couldn't stay in Manhattan any more.

He called his attorney and told him to hire a moving company to clear out
his loft, and put his possessions into storage, and sell the loft. He
Called Elton and Robert, and told them of his decision. They both tried to
talk him out of it, but his mind was made up. After he hung up, he packed
his bag, and strapping the ginger jar into the seat beside him, drove South
through Flagstaff, and Sedona and finally to Phoenix. He had planned to
drive on to Tucson and maybe into Mexico, but by the time he got to Phoenix,
he was tired of the road. He checked into a hotel along the freeway, and
after sleeping for several hours, began to explore the city.

He marveled at the changes Phoenix had gone through in the thirty-five
years he'd been gone. What had once been vast orchards of citrus fruit,
were now vast housing developments. The house where he'd grown up was no
longer there. In its place was a shopping mall. He looked in the phone
book, and found several names listed that could have been his mother and
father. He drove to each of the addresses listed and parked for hours
observing the people coming and going, until at the fourth house, he saw his
mother come out and begin working in the flower garden planted in front of
the house. He started to get out of the car to approach her, but the front
door of the house opened, and his father came out, looking bitter and old.
He said something to his wife, and she got up from her knees, and went back
into the house. His father took out a cigar and lit it with a silver
lighter, and then turned and looked straight at David where he sat in the
rented car. He stared for a long time, before turning suddenly and going
into the house and slamming the door.

David drove away, and never returned. The house he found on a quiet street
had everything he needed, and he paid cash for it. The back yard was well
planted, and had plenty of shade, and some fruit trees and a grape arbor
hanging lush with grapes. The lemon tree in the center of the yard was in
full bloom, and the apricot and plumb trees were already fruiting. The
front yard was planted with desert growth, and the house itself was
comfortable and pleasant. He bought himself a new Mercedes sports roadster,
and parked it in the driveway, and had his stuff shipped from New York. In
no time at all, he was back at work on his next novel, and spoke
occasionally to Michael in his ginger jar on the shelf next to his computer.
He liked to read what he'd written out loud to the jar, and would always
listen for Michael's response.

His neighbors on either side, felt he was a little eccentric because he
always turned down invitations to their back yard cookouts, but he didn't
care. He had his writing, and he had his Michael, and for a few years, he
didn't need anything else. The neighborhood changed a little bit around
him, and the neighbors on both sides sold out and moved to retirement homes
in Sun City. A Mexican family bought the house on his North side, and a
young white couple with a new baby bought the one on the South. The house
directly behind him across the alley, became a rental, and had a series of
loud and obnoxious tenants over a period of years, until he noticed some
young men playing basket ball in the dirt yard of the rental, and took an
interest.

On his ladder one day pruning the lemon tree, he saw the two young men
sitting on a fifty-five gallon drum that had been turned on its side. They
were intent on doing homework while they were soaking up sun rays. Neither
of them had a stitch on, except for thin leather strands around their necks.
In their blonde beauty, they looked like twins from a distance. When they
realized they were being stared at, the one on the left stood up unabashedly
showing David his young cock and balls, before turning to go into the house.
The second boy covered his privates with his books as he followed his
brother. David made a note to pay more attention to the neighbors across
the alley.

He often sat in his back yard in the evening, enjoying the cool evening
air, scented with lemon blossoms and the smell of cut grass. He watched the
exotic birds coming to bathe in the bath he'd made for them, and to help
themselves to the seeds he always kept replenished. His favorites were the
several species of Hummingbirds that frequented his lemon tree, and the red
syrup dispenser he kept hanging in the branches of the plum tree. Their
tiny darting forms accompanied by the whirring of their tiny beating wings
were charming to watch.

One night a few days after he had seen the sunbathing boys in their dusty
back yard, he was sitting in the dark in the yard, with his head back on the
chair, looking at the myriad of twinkling stars, and thinking about Michael,
when voices, loud and angry erupted from the house across the alley. He
listened, and heard only male voices shouting indistinct words at each
other. It ended with the sound of flesh hitting flesh. After it had been
silent for some time, David got out of his chair and went inside. For some
reason the angry voices had made him sad. He took Michael's jar off the
shelf, and sat with it in the dark den at the back of his house listening to
a record of The Pines of Rome, playing softly on his player. He didn't know
if the tears running down his cheeks were for the loss of Michael, or the
loss of himself.

The next morning, he got himself psyched up, and went to see his parents.
He bought some flowers for his mom, and parked in front of their house.
When he rang the door bell, he held the roses in front of his face to make a
surprise for them, but when the door opened, his father stood there with a
sour look on his face, the stub of a cigar in one corner of his mouth.

"Hi dad." He felt himself trembling as he lowered the roses.

"What?"

"Is mom here?" His voice was choking in his throat with emotion.

"What?"

"I said, is mom..."

"You got the wrong place buddy. My wife's been dead a year now, and we
never had a son." With that, he slammed the door in David's face.

The roses wilted on the leather of the Mercedes as David drove through the
heat of the Phoenix day. He had the windows down because he couldn't seem
to get enough air into his lungs for some reason. When he got home after
driving for what seemed like days, the sun was dropping toward the horizon.
He took the dried crisp roses, still wrapped in their plastic cover, and
walked through the gate on the side of the house into his back yard. He
stood for a moment, and then headed out the back gate to the alley where the
trash container was. He'd just deposited the dead roses, and was surveying
the pile of boxes and obvious moving detritus piled on the ground next to
the trash container when the gate to the back yard of the house behind his
opened. The two boys came out with more for the pile.

David had been raking the pile into some order when the two boys had come
into the alley. He looked at them quietly, while they deposited their load
of boxes and wrapping paper onto the pile. Neither was wearing a shirt, and
their baggy pants had slipped down their shapely hips exposing their boxer
shorts at the top. David looked at them, and smiled when the older boy
spoke.

"Hey man. "When they gonna pick up this shit?"



The phone rang on the desk beside the computer and David finished typing
his sentence before picking it up.

"Yeah?" He was always brusque when the phone disturbed him in his writing.
Lately, it had been calls from computers trying to sell him some service
or benefit. As soon as the computerized voice kicked in, he always hung up,
mainly because he couldn't imagine having a conversation with a computer.

"Hi dad." John's voice was good to hear.

"Hey Danny! how's things?" He'd been in school for most of a semester, and
he and Bill, were living together in a small apartment in Flagstaff.

"We're coming down this weekend, and just wanted you to know. How's
everybody."

"We're doing fine. We'll be glad to see you. When are you going to get
here?"

"About ten Friday night I think. We can't leave until Bill gets off work.
It's Bill I want to talk to you about."

"Any problems?"

"Not really, but we need to do something for him. The waiter's job isn't
getting it, and he needs an education if he's going to have a chance."

"I agree. What does he think about it?"

"We haven't talked really. I'm just picking up hints that he wants more
than being a waiter can give him out of life."

"Well, think about it. and see you Friday night. You want me to have some
food ready?"

"That would be nice."

"See you then."

"Love ya."

"Love you too." David called Jack as soon as soon as he hung up, and they
planned a bit of a party for the whole family when Danny and Bill got home.

End​

 

[timnmostud]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 34

Awww! I hate to see it end, but that was a really nice wrap up. I hope to see more of your writing soon. Thanks for the story. I enjoyed the journey.

 

[blueox37]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 34

beautiful, just beautiful---you are very skilled at what you do--my hat goes off to you, the Master---thank you for a great read

 

[upyrkilt469]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 34

Gary I really enjoyed that story. I hope your are to post another one very soon.
H&K
Vic

 

[harry113]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 34

Thanks Gary, Great ending
Wonderful writing
Hugs
Harry

 

[LaloGS]

Hi everybody. Thanks to Autolycus, the novel is now all in one thread. As I said at the outset, there are 35 chapters to it, the last to be posted tomorrow morning EDST. I'm going to take a break to get some painting done, but I'll be back soon enough with more stories.

For those who can, you might like pick up a copy of the next edition of Bear Magazine out of San Francisco. I just signed a contract to supply them with stories for their quarterly editions. First one appears in the next issue.

Thank you all for reading and e-mailing your kind words of encouragement.
Best to you all,
Gary

 

[kcm17480]

Your stories are excellent and very real. I enjoy reading them immensely. Thank you for sharing them with us. you must br multi talented. You paint too?
Ken

 

[LaloGS]

Across the Alley Chapter 35

I want to thank each and every one of the readers who have
responded to this story. Many of you have been inspirational in your
e-mails and I want you all to know that it was and is appreciated. But the
time has come to wrap this one up, and I hope I can tie the bow that ends
it so that all of you are satisfied. I've decided to just throw one last
glorious party so everybody can get something out of it so this episode
will be slightly longer than usual, and as graphic as I can make it given
my limited talents as a writer.

I'd love to hear from you all with your impressions. I do
enjoy getting e-mails from the readers.

Lalo

Across the Alley Chapter 35
By
LaloGS​

Fiction


David and Jack decided to throw a big celebration party. David
arranged to rent a local bath house that normally would have been rocking
on a weekend night, but had been closed for repairs after a fire sprinkler
had been set off by accident causing a flood. The repairs were finished,
and the club was just waiting for final inspection before it opened to the
public again.

Jack had called a catering company they had heard about that
offered nude catering of any affair, and he'd selected the gay boys theme
and wrote a check to cover a hundred people. They then got on the phones
in separate bedrooms which had separate lines, and called everyone they
knew that might be interested in the party and invited them.

By Friday night, when Danny and Bill arrived, everything was in
place and scheduled to kick off at eight the next night. The boys were
tired when they arrived, but David had prepared a simple meal and told them
not to make any plans for Saturday night, because they had been invited to
a party. Jeremy and John were kept in the dark about it as well except to be
told there was a big party they needed to attend with David and Jack.

The boys all had friends they wanted to invite, so David and Jack
took their lists and promised to call everyone and invite them as well. By
midnight, everything was done. Jeremy and John had left to go out and cruise
around with some friends, and Danny and Bill had gone to the bedroom and
fallen asleep. Jack and David sat facing each other at the dining table
tired and happy with the last minute work they had done. Jack pushed back
his chair, and walked around to where David was sitting. David looked up
at him and Jack bent to kiss him on the lips.

"I love you David. I just want you to know it."

"I love you too Jack. And what makes you think I don't know you
love me?"

"You know what I mean." They kissed again, and Jacked pulled David
up out of the chair, and held him close in an embrace. They walked
silently to their bedroom, and Jack slowly undressed David, watching the
effect his touches were having on his lover's cock.

"Horny huh?"

"You know me Jack. It never stops."

"Me neither." Jack sat on the edge of the bed, and when he pulled
David's pants down around hi knees, he leaned in and licked his long rigid
cock. "I love your cock David. I love everything about it. But best of
all, I love what it can make me do." He swallowed the head, and David made
it flex in his mouth, feeling him slide down the shaft until it was buried
in his throat.

"Oh Jack. That feels fantastic." David humped into his lover
slightly, and felt the head of his cock push through the back of Jack's
throat and slide a good three inches into his esophagus. Jack swallowed,
working the muscles around the heavy piece of meat. He held it for as long
as he could, and then needing to breathe, he pulled off and took a deep
breath through his flaring nostrils. His mouth never left David's dick.
He bobbed his head on the shaft, rolling his tongue around it and teasing
the head with his throat muscles before shoving back down on it driving it
deeper than it had been before.

"Shit Jack, I thought I was too tired to cum tonight, but you have
me there already." Jack bobbed again, and turned on the suction. His
throat grabbed tightly behind the flaring ring of his lovers cockhead,
and held it tight as the hard cartilage rubbed the sensitive flange again
and again.

David grabbed Jack's head, and fucked his face hard for a few
strokes, and then his nuts tightened up next to the shaft of his big cock,
and his knees got weak as they began to empty their load of cum into his
lover's throat. He slipped to the floor as his nuts emptied themselves,
and after laying his head across Jack's lap for a few minutes to gather his
strength again, he unzipped his partner's pants, and pulled out his cock,
rigid and drooling precum like it always did. He slipped it into his
mouth, and sucked it like the expert he'd learned to be those many years
ago hustling on the street. Jack moaned. David did him for all he was
worth, and Jack began to tremble, and finally fell back on the bed, driving
his spike of a dick deeper into David's throat.

The cum when it came, was violent and squirting in several volleys
against the back of David's mouth. He swallowed until the final spurt
slashed across his tongue, and he crawled up Jack's torso, and kissed him,
sharing the last remnant of his jizz with him.

They finished undressing, and crawled into bed spooning themselves
together and so to sleep. David woke up when Jeremy and John came home, and
went out to see if everything was all right. The boys had brought home a
young stud they had picked up in a bar off campus in Tempe. The boy looked
about eighteen, and his eyes were wide with excitement at the thought of
having these two sexy studs doing what they had promised to his body.

"You care if our dad joins us," John asked the kid. The boy shook
his head no, staring at David's flaccid cock hanging between his legs.
David yawned.

"No offense guy. I'd love to join you three, but I'm beat. I need
to get some sleep. He started back through the house, but turned and told
Jeremy and John to invite him to the party tonight and maybe he'd get a crack
at him then. The kid smiled, and licked his lips. David disappeared down
the hall, and heard the boys talking excitedly about the party as he closed
the bedroom door.

Jeremy and John soon had the new stud, whose name was Paul, stripped
and ready for action. Paul was new to his sexuality, and had only been
with one other boy. neither of them had known exactly what to do to each
other, so when John swallowed his cock in one stroke, he raised himself off
the couch, and in so doing, gave Jeremy the access to his ass crack which he
wanted. The two experts soon had the neophyte writhing on the couch like
he was some demented snake.

As Jeremy's tongue worked its was wetly into Paul's asshole, John
positioned himself so Paul could just fuck his mouth at his own speed. The
brothers managed to strip themselves as this was going on, and soon, were
standing stiff as bamboo rods and fondling each other with passion. Jeremy
broke off, and got the goody box out of the cabinet. He suited himself up
and explained to Paul that he was about to be fucked, and after he suited
himself, he suited John's cock in latex, and then slicked everything with
lube.

He positioned himself over John's thick slab of boy meat, and
lowered himself on it until he was sitting on his brother's lap. He then
positioned Paul over his own, and dragged him wincing backward down onto
his shaft gently but firmly. Paul was breathing hard from the first time
intrusion into his body, but gradually got used to the thickness impaling
him. He leaned back and sucked on Jeremy's left nipple, and felt Jeremy hump
into him. The position needed some refinement, so the three rolled to
their knees, and soon were chugging away in each other's asses. Jeremy was
pumping Paul's cock with a lube slick hand, and the boys laid into each
other for several long minutes before Paul moaned and lost it all over the
couch and carpet. Jeremy pounded into him with a fury, and in so doing
brought his brother to the edge and felt John pull out and rip his condom
off and finish himself by standing and showering both his brother and Paul
with his copious squirts of jizz. Jeremy preferred to cum in Paul's ass, and
did so with much thrusting and moaning until they fell exhausted across the
black leather couch.

After that they slept, and were pretty much in that position when
Danny and Bill wandered into the kitchen to make coffee at seven thirty the
next morning. They worked on preparing the coffee pot, and made comments
about the various cocks on display. Jeremy had long since pulled out of
Paul's asshole, but now his big piece of meat was stiff with the need of a
morning piss. Paul and John were both crashed front down on the carpet, so
they had to walk around quietly looking at the boy's bodies for what they
could see.

Danny got an idea, and went to the kitchen and returned with a mug
filled with warm water. He set it down near Jeremy, and told Bill to watch
what would happen. He carefully lifted Jeremy's hand and slipped his fingers
into the warm water. A moment passed, and his cock began to deflate
slightly, and as it did, piss began to dribble.

“Whoops!” Jeremy leaped up and ran squeezing his dick for the toilet in the hall.
Danny and Bill nearly had strokes they were laughing so hard, much to Paul and John’s confusion.

"One of you guys pissed the bed," Danny and Bill laughed and the two
jumped up to find it was true.

"Shit!" Jeremy came back in the room, glaring at Danny. "I
haven't done that since I was a kid. I must have been really zonked or
something."

John and Paul were both looking embarrassed. "What happened?"

"What's going on?" It was Jack. He's heard the voices, and didn't
know the boys had brought Paul home with them, and had strolled out into
the Den stark naked with his own piss hardon.

"Man." said Paul. "Don't any of you guys ever wear clothes?" He
was eying Jacks cock, the first adult man's cock he'd ever seen hard.

"I nearly pissed in the bed." Jeremy said, looking at Danny and Bill when they both sniggered at his statement.

They took turns showering and getting dressed and ready for the day. Since the boys were all shaving now, it took a while before they all eventually presented themselves for inspection in the den. Morning kisses were passed around, and David took them all out to a late breakfast at the local Denney’s, and after they had eaten, the boys pumped their fathers for more information about the coming
party. Jack and David refused any information, and when they got home, it
was decided they should all rest until it was time to head out for the
party.

"No telling how long it will last," Jack said, heading with David
for the quiet gloom of their bedroom. The last thing the boys heard was
David's voice shouted back to them in the den.

"Save yourselves for tonight. You'll need all the cum you can
muster."

****

The party attendees began to arrive a little before seven. The
caterers were still setting up, but the bartenders were far enough along in
their set up to offer drinks to the guests, and as the crowd grew, old friends got
happy to see each other, and new friends were introduced. The rule at the
door, was strictly nude, and a large muscular employee of the club was
enforcing the rule. It was unclear if the rule was David's and Jack's
rule, on one imposed by the club ownership. After all, their newly redone
facility had new carpet and everything.

Several young men had entered the pool and were deeply involved
with sexual horseplay, grabbing ass and cock, and even stroking each other
under water. One healthy soul was swimming under water from cock to cock
sampling the flavors with his mouth. A few older men had gathered drinks
in hand, and watched the fun as it progressed in the water. A few were
sporting hardening dicks as they watched, but all knew the party had no
scheduled end, and wanted to delay the inevitable as long as possible so as
not to miss out on the fun the later evening would be sure to bring.

The open bar was crowded with guys trying to get drinks under their
belts, so to speak, to get the orgy going. It didn't take long for the
alcohol to do its job. In every nook and cranny men were paired off,
groping each other, kissing, stroking and occasionally sucking dick.

In the new video room, the new theatrical video system was showing
a series of hot cum shots, with gobs of cum flying out of closeups of
expanding piss slits. It was fascinating to see the lips of the piss slit
suddenly smile in slow motion, and then a gush of creamy white jism spit
out, quickly followed by another and another before switching to another
smiling cock head. Most of the dicks in the images being shown had that
glistening just sucked look, and the men standing around watching were soon
adding to the general amount of gushing cum in the room. The smell of
fresh sperm was heady and exciting to the group.

The video playing gradually began to replace cocks shooting off,
with close ups of big thick dicks probing moist spreading assholes. It
didn't take long, before the video cocks were fucking ass like the stars
they were. The audience followed suit, and the slap of butt to lap soon
filled the room with the sound of serious fucking.

Elsewhere, in a dark anonymous space, covered entirely with carpet
and furnished with thick soft pillows, men groped and felt their way
through the darkness taking advantage of every opportunity for sex they
encountered with their hands and bodies. With the sense of sight removed,
the idea of anonymous encounters, was both hot and mysterious. Somewhere
in the room, somebody was getting fucked deep and hard. The sound of the
fucking was amplified by the element of darkness and anonymity. The man
doing the fucking, was grunting his cock into the fuckee with his heavy
strokes, while his fuckee, was being verbal and passionate.

"Oh yeah, fuck my ass you fucking stud! Plow my hole you fucking
pig. Shove that log up my butt!" The commands were shouted in escalating
voice, until eventually, they gave way to a lust driven guttural howl.
When it was obvious from the crescendo that both men were cumming, the rest
of the crowd in the room stopped briefly what they were doing to applause
the passionate performance.

Somewhere in more private quarters, with doors separating the mass
of sex lusting men and those with more refined tastes, other kinds of
sexual proclivities. An older man has enticed a younger man forty years
his junior. Spread eagle on a bed with his arms and feet bound with silken
ropes to the frame of the bed. The boy, a mere lad compared to the wizened
older lover he'd agreed to pleasure, watched his partner prepare himself
for the session. From a suitcase the old man had brought with him, he
withdrew a long polished leather cord. He lifted the boy's handsome cock ,
already hard with anticipation of the things to come. The leather cord was
soon carefully wrapped around the boy's cock well below his full and
pleasant balls, pushing the golden haired orbs up and tightening the skin
stretched across their fullness.

Pausing, the old man , leans over and licks the glistening drop of
precum from the flaring purple tip with his thin pebbly tongue. The boy
sighs and turns slightly torqueing his long sensuous body toward his lover.
The next item from the bag, are a pair of clamps with thumb screws. The
eyes of the boy widen as he catches sight of them and he moans
involuntarily, and averts his head.

The clamps are soon attached to the boy's nipples, and he is arched
from the pain they have induced. When, after a few moments, his brain has
accepted the pain the clamps have induced in his body, and his body has
relaxed again, the old man goes again to his bag. He withdraws a set of
objects, a small cat `o nine tails, a long and beautiful peacock feather,
and a small bottle of cream. He places the cream on the table under the
dim lamp, and carefully lays the cat beside it, draping it just so.

The feather, is held in his right hand while he grips the boys
stiffness with his left. He lays the tip of the feather with its large
iridescent eye on the boy's face. He speaks in a quiet voice, almost a
whisper.

"Close your eyes son. This is better if you aren't watching."
When he withdraws the feathery eye, the boy's eyes are closed tightly, and
the old man notices a thin film of sweat has broken out on the boy's face
and body. He drops the boy's stiffness, and then leans over and runs his
thin tongue up the length stopping just under the head where he lets his
tongue linger briefly, softly playing over the sensitive spot on the
underside of the cock.

"The old man rises, and feeling himself soft and flaccid with his
left hand, he carefully lays the peacock feather on the bed beside the boy,
and reaches for the small bottle of cream he's brought along. Squeezing a
good amount into his left hand, he returns the squeeze bottle to the
bedside table. He uses his creamed hand to stroke himself, massaging the
cream into his flaccid member, feeling the change the smooth cream brings
with his self attention.

Feather in hand again, and softly stroking his now gradually rising
cock, he lets the very tip of the peacock feather's eye brush the boy's
tortured nipples. The boy's breathing grows slightly deeper, while the old
man strokes. The feather wanders along the muscular body touching softly
here and there as it goes. Each time the softness touches the boy's flesh,
he shivers and tries to withdraw the affected area from the contact.

When the feather reaches the cock, all bound with the gleaming
leather cord, the boy shivers uncontrollably as the tickling feather causes
sensations in his body he's never felt before. Another gleaming drop of
precum oozes from the tip, and the old man bends and removes it deftly with
his feathery tongue. The boy sighs again.

Still stroking his own softness between his legs, the old man lays
the feather aside, and carefully picks up the cat. He lets the leather
strands trail over the boy's torso lightly, raising goosebumps on the pale
smooth skin. The boy shivers, tensing against what he imagines is coming.

The first strike of the cat, leaves a "V" shaped patch of rising
red welts across the parchment of the skin. The old man sighs, and strokes
himself with the cream. The boy recoils and twists as the cat trails again
across his torso. The next slash of the cat burns a series of welts across
the inner left thigh. The old man shivers, and strokes. He boy moans
quietly not wanting to audibly display his fear.

A more severe strike with the cat lands across the hip and
partially cuts at the hanging ballsack. The old man shivers again, and his
throat gurgles with liquid sound. Through slitted eyes, he sees the boy
has oozed another gift from the slit in his cock. He stoops quickly and
laps the treasure up, never stopping his insistent stroking with his creamy
hand. His withered old cock is beginning to respond, and is now slightly
expanded in his bony hand.

Another cut of the cat, and the crack of leather on skin, brought a
quick intake of breath from the boy. His throat was suddenly tight with
fear and he moaned again softly. The old man laid the cat aside on the
bed, and gripped the boy's stiffness, and raising it upright in his fist,
descended on the shaft, letting the head slide through his worn lips and
into the depths of his throat. He bobbed on the boy's shaft briefly with
his thick saliva coating the tender skin with a sticky coat of foaming
spit. As he withdrew from the boy's cock, a string of his saliva stretched
from the dick head to his lower lip. He watched it stretch and stretch
until it suddenly broke and vanished in a moist twinkle in the space
between lip and cockhead.

Again, the old man, stroking his now hardening cock, resumes the
cat. Leaning back, he slaps the leather strands of the whip against his
leg a time or two, selecting the next place which to strike with force.
The crack of the whip, falling cruelly across flesh, caused the boy to cry
out.

"That's it son. Let it get under your skin." The whip flashed in
the dim light again, and the slash of leather on skin, brought tears to the
boy's eyes. They opened and stared large and blue at his lover. The tears
glistened in their feathery rims. The old man leaned over and kissed both
his eyes, sampling the wetness he found there, with his lips first, then
licking the saltiness with his tongue.

The boy twisted his head away from the probing mouth and tongue, to
look at the beads of sweat mixed with drops of blood streaming from various
places of torn skin on the old man's body.

"Why do you do that to yourself?" The boy's spoken words, changes
the old man's mood. His cock, now hard in his stroking hand, seems to
pulse with vigor as he strokes. He leans over the boy, and sucks him into
his throat again. The boy groans as his lover engulfs his flesh.

Sucking with energy now, the old lover, makes the boy arch his
back, pulling against his restraints. He struggled to feed his entire
bound cock into the throat of the old man. As he sucks, the old lover
strokes his own hardness, finally beating his hardness as if he were the
boy's age instead of forty years his senior. As he sucks the boy and
strokes himself, he feels his lustful passion rising once again to a climax
so long and difficult to achieve.

The boy is writhing under the excellent suck he's getting, and he
too feels his nuts beginning to ache with the need to empty themselves deep
into his lover's throat. He groans the warning of his impending gift, and
the old man quickens his strokes with hand and mouth. When he feels the
first pulse and flex in the boy's cum tube, he literally gobbles the cock
down to make a point of not losing a drop of the precious nectar. The boy
is thrusting his hip at the face of his lover over and over, trying to fuck
him as hard as he can until the primal moment arrives willy nilly and
uncontrollable.

Without as much as a grunt of warning, the old lover, is pouring
his thin seed across the legs of the bound boy, and his throat feels the
gush of the rich thick spunk that only the young can provide. He swallows
and swallows, gulping this gift of sexual life down like the fountain of
youth it represents in his mind.

Finished, he lays beside the boy for a long moment, gathering his
diminished strength while the boy's heaving chest gradually subsides to
normal. The old lover rises, and releases the boy an arm and a foot at a
time. He leaves the clamps until last, licking the tender flesh as he
releases it, and sucking lightly to bring the blood back into the deprived
flesh. The boy trembled under his delicate tongue, and then took his lover
in his hugging arms and held him tightly to his chest.

Elsewhere, men were enjoying themselves, having a great time doing
as they pleased without the fear of authority intervening in their lusty
pleasures. In the patio, open to the warm night sky, several men are
smoking cigars and discussing the flesh of younger men strolling
provocatively through the enclosed patio area. Occasionally, a couple will
make eye contact, and pair off heading to other parts of the building to
explore their new found intrigue.

Indeed, cocks were finding pleasures in every place possible in the
building, and as our family of four boys and two men, walked about
observing, the party in all it's aspects, they found themselves growing
more and more aroused by what they were seeing. Danny and Bill were openly
groping each other, and Jack and David were watching it happen with
stiffening dicks. Jeremy and John, began to kiss each other, and then after
a while, expanded the kissing to their fathers, and then drew Danny and
Bill into the scene. They found themselves in the patio area, with an
audience of smokers, and settled into their own sexual heap. The audience
gathered and watched the developing orgy that all knew to be a closed
affair.

Jack was the first to broach his lover's hole, and as the two older
men fucked, Bill crawled under David and took his dick into his mouth and
sucked it down his throat. Danny found a willing hole in John's ass, and
filled it with his stiffness, and then bent at the waist, took Jeremy's tick
piece of young flesh into his throat. The bobbing and thrusting went on
for a while, without outcome. This group of men had come to know each
other's limits, and knew instinctively how to extend their love sessions.
There were several close calls when one or the other got carried away with
lust and love, needing to feel a gushing result of their sexual activities,
but reason always prevailed, and the private orgy continued on for a long
and pleasurable time as the audience for their activities grew and
developed into a hundred or more jacking watchers.

As the boys and men fucked and sucked each other, there were
comments made from the crowd, and soon it was a rollicking roast of the
various observable techniques. The orgy continued with refinements
suggested by the deeply involved audience, until the family was rapidly
rising into a single unit of passion and love. Overwhelmed with sensations
of pleasure none of them had ever experienced singly or with partners, they
finally began to climb the slope of result their bodies stiffening and
writhing a once, preparing to blast their cum into the world of waiting
bodies and mouths.

When the crowd realized it was about to cum to a crashing climax,
they drew closer, stroking stiff cocks hoping to find a place to let their
own grateful spunk splatter across the sexy bodies being urged over that
abyss of pleasure.

When it began, a watcher grunted and shot a thick rope of cum
across John's sweat gleaming chest. Another stepped forward, and let fly
with a long stringy rope that found lodging in Danny's long curly hair.
The patio was soon awash in the smell of fresh cum and the sounds of
splattering spunk filled the mild night air of Phoenix.

It ended in a total collapse of civilization. The randy men were
soon licking and sucking the gleaming pools of cum, letting their tongues
glide over sweat slicked bodies, mingling the taste of the spunk of over a
hundred men. Those capable, expanded their own participation by joining in
the fucking and sucking going on.

Those less capable, watched, and tried to work themselves into the
correct state of mind to join in again with diminished resources ensconced
in their nuts. With time, it was clear that the party was drawing to a
close. After all, a man's body could only provide so much before needing
to rest and regenerate itself. The younger, men, continued longer than the
older men were able, and eventually, it was left to they boys to provide
the continuing show well into the wee hours of the morning. Occasionally,
and older man would stiffen up again, and there was always a willing
younger mouth or butthole to accommodate him.

By the time the Eastern sky was luminous with the threat of dawn,
the boys were falling to the wayside in exhaustion. The older men began to
help the younger ones to their feet, and in minimal clothes, began to help
them into various cars and vehicles in the lot. The party was unofficially
over. As cars left the parking lot, headed toward the freeway entrance, to
disperse across the Valley of the Sun, Jack and David and the boys gathered
their gear together, and dressed themselves, and got themselves into their
various cars. In no time at all, they were home, and tucked into their
beds together and deeply asleep, renewing themselves for what the future
would bring.

After several hours of much needed sleep, David woke up with the
need to write driving him through his exhaustion. He pulled on his robe,
and made his way to his office in the house, and booted his computer. He
sat, bleary for a moment while the machine came up brightly in the dim
room. When he launched his word processing software, he sat for a moment
thinking and then began to type.


If gays plan to survive as a politically viable entity in the
future, they need to understand the importance of family. Those who find
themselves rejected by their straight families, need to understand they
have not been cast adrift alone in the world. The need to find a gay
family and become a part of that web of support it offers.

As gays become more vocal and visible, there will be backlashes by
blind hatred from the religious right and so called heterosexual sectors.
The best protection from these flashes of hatred is the family. Building a
family is easy if there is more than lust involved and love does prevail.

The need gay men feel to sample others sexually should not prevent
the formation of such a family. Sex is sex, but love is long lasting and
eternal. Of course, not every sexual conquest needs to be a family member,
but the door should not be closed to a supplicant in need.

Until gays recognize their need of a stable base from which to
address the world, they will always be at the effect of the hate mongers.
Join together in family groups, and the strength will grow exponentially as
gay families establish themselves just as heterosexual families have
gathered power to themselves by holding together.

The history the heterosexual world continues to point at, to our
detriment, is the history of single gay men without a support system to
help them deal with the hate filled world in which they find themselves
living. They perceive us as predatory beasts on their children, never
realizing that in the majority of instances when a man loves a boy, it is a
mutual love. The boy makes as much a decision as the man. If the legal
ages limits are respected, there should be no position the heterosexual
family can take that is opposed to their homosexual partnership.

Men everywhere, will find it easier to find their desires
accomplished if they understand that it is a family commitment being made,
and not only a sexual one. Each boy has a future, and with the loss of
their recognized heterosexual family, from which we all spring, they find
themselves lost in an overwhelming world.

Guidance and support for the boy to realize his life goals, needs
to be given to allow the boy to achieve his dreams. Should this mean
education, then it should be given. Should this mean a stable loving safe
place to be, then it should be given. Given freely as one family member
more capable for giving, will insure a long term love and respect; a
condition we all need in our lives.

Live and love,
David Stone
The End​

 

[PrimeTime]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 35

I have eagerly looked forward to each installment. You brought back many memories of my growing up. Trips to New York, The Everhardt Baths and the many things I have done in my lifetime. I will miss reading it every morning, and thank you for a job well done.

 

[harry113]

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 35

Thanks Gary
A wonderful read from start to finish, some tinged with sadness,
But great sex all the way !!!
Thanks again
Hugs
Harry