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De Profundis,
by Skorpio
Lorenzowandered about the train station in a kind of trance while mutteringobscenities under his breath. He could not help himself.
"Cunt,motherfucker, suck my dick, show me your tits, get it wet, you bitch, you nastywhore, kiss me with your pussy lips..."
It was a wayof drowning out the voices in his head. Or was he simply repeating what thevoices wanted him to say? The only thing that gave Lorenzo any peace of mindwas getting high on crack. Herb, booze, heroin, nothing else worked. It had tobe crack.
The brotherlooked like a homeless vagabond with his nappy, overgrown fade, untrimmedchin-beard, and shabby, unkempt apparel. He had a place to stay, a room in hissister Loretta's house, but he liked to chill at the train station.
Lorenzo wasusually too skittish to panhandle, but sometimes, when he was desperate to get blasted,he made the effort. Spare change added up, quarter by quarter, until he hadenough for half a rock. That was enough to silence the demons in his head.
On asweltering, August afternoon, something happened that would change the courseof Lorenzo's life. He asked a middle-aged white guy smoking alone outside thetrain station for a square.
Afterplacing the cigarette behind his ear for later, Lorenzo asked: "Do you thinkyou could spare some change so I can get something to eat?"
The strangerhanded Lorenzo a crisp, twenty dollar bill. Before Lorenzo could thank him, thewhite guy smiled and walked away.
Long-leggedLorenzo wasted no time striding to the set behind the boarded up row homes onLocust Street to purchase what he needed.
A weeklater, Lorenzo saw the same stranger outside the station, again smoking acigarette. This time Lorenzo took a better look.
The whiteguy stood a few inches shorter than Lorenzo. He had a trim, solid physique. Thebrim of a baseball cap shaded his eyes. A black, short-sleeved shirt revealedsurprisingly large biceps.
"Sup?" saidLorenzo, ambling forward.
"Oh, hi,"said the white guy, as if caught by surprise. "I didn't see you there."
That didn'tsound quite right. Lorenzo was sure the white guy saw him approach.
"Think youcan help me out again?" Lorenzo ventured, trying not to sound intimidating.
"Sure," saidthe white guy, slipping Lorenzo a folded Jackson.
"Thanks, man,"said Lorenzo, nonplussed by this repeat of good fortune.
As soon as Lorenzocrumpled the bill in his pocket, the white guy turned to leave, and Lorenzorushed to Locust Street, muttering incoherently all the way:
"White pussybitch motherfucker god damn it, fucking asshole tryin' to mess with a nigga, I'mafuck you up, don't give a shit, goddammit, step off or I'ma cut you cracka,think you know shit, fucking harlots, but I ain't no punk bitch, go ahead callme that again, say it bitch, I will bust your head wide open, motherfucker,pussy ass cunt, you don't know who you messin' with, suck my dick, talk somemore shit, see what I do, show me them floppy titties, bitch."
The voiceswent away as soon as Lorenzo smoked from his pipe.
Once ortwice a week for the next several weeks this routine was repeated with little variation.The white guy always stood in the same spot. Sometimes they exchanged a fewwords, but any semblance of an actual conversation between Lorenzo and hisbenefactor ended once the cash was in Lorenzo's hand.
All thatmattered was getting the money to pay for the shit that brought some peace ofmind.
By earlyOctober, Lorenzo's curiosity finally got the better of him.
"Listen,man, I really appreciate you helping me out like this," he said, hesitantly.His voice was guttural, harsh, but there was no mistaking its sincerity. "Mindif I axe you something?"
The whiteguy smiled. "Sure, what is it?"
"Why?"
"Why, what?"
The whiteguy fumbled for a pack of Newports, lit one hastily, and offered one toLorenzo.
"Why are yougiving me money all the time? Twenty bucks, every time I see you? Sup withthat, man? I appreciate it and shit, but this got me wondering. That's all."
"You remindme a lot of someone I used to know," said the white guy. "I'm Aiden, by theway."
"I'mLorenzo."
They shookhands. Aiden's grip was impressive, but Lorenzo's fingers were longer, thicker,and stronger. With his other hand, Aiden offered a twenty dollar bill.
A cold,metallic glint came to Lorenzo's eyes.
"You gotmaybe an extra twenty I can hold?" he asked, cautiously.
"Sure, noproblem," said Aiden, looking satisfied.
Fortydollars richer, Lorenzo's curiosity evaporated, and the two men went their separateways.
A few dayslater, Lorenzo approached Aiden outside the train station. The weather wasturning blustery. Aiden was wearing an unmistakably expensive windbreaker witha leather messenger bag over the shoulder.
"I havesomething you might like," said Aiden, producing a magazine.
"What'sthat? A porno magazine?"
Aiden handedover the latest "Hustler." On the glossy cover was a black woman in a skimpy bikiniwith melon tits and a phat ass. Banners promised: "31 Flavors of Pink, NicoleRichie Nude, Ghetto Orgies, Sex Slaves in the White House," and more.
"Someoneleft it on the train," Aidan explained. "I snatched it up thinking it might besomething you would enjoy."
"I beenneeding something like this," said Lorenzo. "It's like you read my mind."
He flippedthrough the magazine, absently licking his lips. Then, he rolled up the smutty periodicaland stuck it in his back pocket with a self-congratulatory snort.
"Don't youwant it?" he asked. "You sure you're done with it?"
"I don't carefor... that kind of... you know, stuff."
Their eyesmet.
"Whatchumean, you don't like pussy?"
Lorenzo soundedmore confused than incredulous.
"I'm afaggot," Aiden replied softly.
"You're gay?"
The brother steppedback to digest this revelation.
"That'scool," he shrugged. "I know some gay dudes. But you know I'm not, right? I'mstraight. I'm totally straight."
"Oh, I know,I know that," said Aiden. "I just wanted you to have the magazine, that's all.Honest.
"I don't getdown with faggots," Lorenzo added for good measure. "I don't roll like that."
That night beforeLorenzo went to sleep, he jerked off looking at a photo spread of a fat-assed blondegiving a blowjob.
"Damn, Iwish that was my shit in her mouth," he muttered.
As hisfingers worked his throbbing erection, it crossed Lorenzo's mind maybe lettinga faggot suck his dick was not entirely out of the question. If that whitedude, what was his name -- Aiden? If Aiden was at the crib right now with hismouth open and ready, how could any man with a stiff dick say no to that?
"Nah, that'ssome fucked up, crazy shit," thought Lorenzo, before ejaculating unexpectedly.
WheneverAiden was not to be found, Lorenzo got pissed, and the crazy voices in his headgrew louder. He paced the train station muttering like a broken record:
"Cocksuckercunt ass-kissing motherfucker pussy bitch cocksucker slut whore faggot bitchwant my money where it at why you forgot about me fuckin with a nigga thinkinyou know shit you don't know me want my money..."
Before hewas discharged from the army, a shrink diagnosed Lorenzo as suffering from adisorder called coprolalia, the involuntary voicing of obscenities or sociallyinappropriate and derogatory remarks.
Whenever hewas under stress, Lorenzo raged angrily about whorish women and their bodyparts. Sometimes he railed against antagonists, but the subject always returnedto wanton temptresses and over-sexed sluts.
Only now, anew word entered Lorenzo's autonomic lexicon.
When Lorenzoneeded to get high, he began grumbling about faggots.
"Fuckingfaggots, fucking faggots, this is faggot bullshit, what are you, a faggot?"
It got sobad that even Lorenzo's cousin, Jay-Q, had to ask, "Yo, sup with this faggotshit all time? You aiiight, man?"
They justfinished smoking a bowl of hash on Jay-Q's stoop. Cops never patrolled the neighborhood.It was not unusual seeing cats with forties or sisters smoking blunts. Somedays you could get a contact high just by walking down the sidewalk.
"He'smessing with my head," said Lorenzo. "I know he wants to suck my dick. That'swhy he gives me money."
"Who givesyou money?"
"Thefaggot!" He spat the word like it wasdistasteful to him and self-evident because who else would he be talking about?
"There's somefaggot giving you money, and he wants to suck your dick? What's the problem?"
"What areyou, a faggot, too?" Lorenzo snapped.
"Chill,brother," Jay-Q rebuked. "I'm not a faggot. I'm tryin' to help you out. Wheredid you meet this homo?"
"At thetrain station."
Lorenzo wenton to say how much and how often. He told Jay-Q about the porn magazine, and thatAidan once said Lorenzo looked like someone he used to know.
"I wannameet this queer," said Jay-Q. "But let me ask you a question, bruh. Why not lethim suck the dick? If it was me, I'd drain that walking ATM and my nuts at thesame time, know what I'm sayin'? You should think about it."
Lorenzolifted his head, and his eyes should have been glazed over, but they were clearwith a dark mineral gleam.
"Maybe I doneed to get my dick sucked," he admitted, almost with a sigh.
"Whenopportunity knocks," proclaimed Jay-Q, "answer the door and knock themotherfucker out. What I'm sayin' is take as much as you can from this. It'sjust a mouth on your dick, that's all. Just a faggot doing what all faggots do.They suck dick. That's their thing, suckin' dick, why God put `em on thisearth. Why not get a nut and get paid at the same time? That's all I'm sayin."
One cold dayin early December when the hawk was out and dark clouds spat sleet and frozenrain, Lorenzo made a decision that changed his life forever.
It was aWednesday, not one of the days Aidan usually turned up, but there he was,standing against the wall of the building shivering in the cold, smoking asusual, wearing a black cap and a light jacket.
This time,Aidan gave Lorenzo three twenty dollar bills, and said, "I have a room at the PhoenixHotel on Broad Street. Room 305. After you get whatever you need, why don't youstop by and hang out with me? I've got booze, pot, some more porn. I wouldn'tmind getting high with you. Whatever you want. No pressure. You're the boss.It's your call all the way."
The Phoenixwas a seedy fleabag one block over that had seen far better days. It was mostlya pit stop for transients, prostitutes, and drug addicts. Lorenzo knew itfairly well.
Lorenzo gaveAiden a long, blank, inscrutable look. In other words no answer whatsoever. Hewanted to keep the faggot guessing, when in fact he had already made up hismind.
A warm hotelroom sounded like a good place to crash. Not to mention Lorenzo really needed ablowjob. He had done a lot of thinking, and Jay-Q was right: "It's just a mouthon your dick, that's all. Just a faggot doing what all faggots do."
Aiden watchedLorenzo until he rounded a corner and was gone. The sleet was changing to wet, heavysnow, falling hard, dropping out of the sky. Rush hour traffic splashed slush.
Half an hourlater, Aiden splashed some Scotch in a paper cup, and looked out through thedingy window panes of the old Phoenix hotel.
In additionto twin beds there was a chest of drawers, a small, unsteady desk, and twowooden chairs. Faded wallpaper and an old Robert Wood painting. There was no TVin the room, but Aiden had brought along a laptop along with a DVD stack ofporn for Lorenzo - if he showed; and a few Jane Austin dramas in case he didn't.
A noisyradiator made the room so hot that Aiden stripped down to his boxers andundershirt. He glanced over the DVDs he and decided to check out "GhettoGangbang 17."
Aiden was afew minutes into the movie when there was a sharp, triple knock at the door. Hejumped up.
Lorenzo shuffledinto the room, shaking the snow from his coat and woolen cap. Aiden hung thecoat on a hook.
`I didn'tknow if you were coming," he said, smiling from ear to ear.
"What yougot to drink?"
"Um, there'sbeer which might be a little warm, but we could put it out on the fire escape.There's bourbon and scotch."
"What youdrinkin?"
"Dewars."
"Gimme summathat."
While Aidanfilled another Dixie cup, Lorenzo hunched over at the desk and set to workslicing up a rock of crack cocaine into tiny pieces with a razor blade. Fromhis boot he pulled out a small glass pipe, carefully filled the bowl, and aminute later sparked his Bic.
"I neededthat," said Lorenzo, after holding the smoke in his lungs and expelling it likea cloud from his nostrils. As strong, unpleasant odor filled the room.
Aiden handedLorenzo the cup filled with scotch, and sat on the edge of the bed. The pornflick was playing on the laptop. Black cocks like battering rams, white asseslike plump pillows, floppy tits like water balloons. Lorenzo glanced at it andchuckled.
"You startedwithout me, faggot?" Lorenzo chuckled.
"I didn'tthink you were going to come."
"I didn'tthink you liked looking at nekkid girls."
"There areguys in this one."
Two brotherswith enormous dicks were drilling a white chick from both ends.
"I can seethat," said Lorenzo, taking another hit from his pipe.
He exhaledwith his eyes closed, and let the rush overtake him, felt his whole body relax,listened to the silence in his head and only heard moans coming from thelaptop.
"You think thatbitch is moaning in pain or pleasure?" Lorenzo asked.
"Both, Iguess," said Aiden.
"I think sotoo. Hey, you want summa this?" He offered the pipe and lighter.
"I've neversmoked crack before."
"I neverpartied with a faggot before neither."
"You got methere."
It was notlong before both men were stretched out on either bed in their undershirts andboxers, feeling stoned but strangely lucid, with no desire to move about yetboth feeling the need to talk.
Lorenzonever felt better. The voices were gone. His mind was clear. He felt alert,keen, like he had not felt in years.
"Tell meabout this guy I remind you of," said Lorenzo. "What happened to him?"
"His namewas Louis. He got locked up. Twenty years."
"What did hedo, rob a bank?"
"Shot asecurity guard in the ass. It's a long story."
"So you wasfriends with some roughneck?"
"I was hisbitch."
"His bitch?"
Lorenzoreached for a pack of cigarettes. He took a slow, deliberate puff, looked overat Aiden, and added, "Yeah, I can see that. You look like someone's bitch. Howcome I remind you of him?"
"You lookjust like him." Aidan sat up, too, and lit a smoke, crossing his legs like agirl. "You could be his twin. The first time I saw you I wanted to meet you rightaway, but I didn't want to scare you off so I just kept giving you money."
"Yeah, thatgot my attention," said Lorenzo, shaking his head with amusement at the idea ofcarrying on a conversation in his skivvies with a faggot. Not to mentiongetting blasted with him in a hotel room.
"Youprobably think I'm pathetic," said Aidan.
"You arepathetic. That's not gonna change. Not never."
"I know."Aiden hung his head.
"Did yousuck his dick?"
"Sometimes,"said Aidan, softly.
Lorenzobarked, "Speak up, bitch!"
"Sometimeshe let me suck his cock," said Aidan, loudly and clearly this time.
"Sometimes?What does that mean?"
"I had tobeg for his cock before he would let me suck it."
"I bet youliked that."
"Yes and no.Groveling really wasn't my thing. It seemed silly, but I didn't dare tell Louisthat. I did it please him. But it was kind of turn on because he was orderingme to do something I didn't want to do."
"That'sconfusing as fuck!" exclaimed Lorenzo before taking another toke from the glasspipe.
Whileholding in the smoke, he thought about his doppelganger Louis and decided heliked the motherfucker.
Lorenzoexhaled.
"So you likebeing told what to do, is that it?"
"Yes, Sir."
"That'scool. What else did you for this Louis cat?"
"I calledhim Master Louis."
"And youcalled him Sir?"
"Yes, Sir."
Lorenzoliked the sound of that. He couldn't remember the last time anyone called him"sir." When was the last time he got the respect he deserved?
At leastthis pathetic white faggot was good for that.
"So, tell mesome more about you and this master Louis," said Lorenzo. "Did y'all livetogether?"
"He stayedwith me most of the time, Sir. He liked having his friends over and a lot ofdifferent women. I cooked and cleaned for him, but mostly I stayed out of theway until he wanted something."
"See, that'swhat I don't get," said Lorenzo, sitting upright. "How come you did whatever hewanted?"
"I was his slave,Sir," said Aiden.
"Say what?"
"His slave,Sir."
"That's whatI thought you said."
Lorenzo tooka slow drag from his cigarette to mull this over. Through narrowed eyes, hestudied the white dude who looked like somebody's bitch standing before him inhis skivvies.
"This issome deep shit," said Lorenzo.
"Do you wantto see my collar?" asked Aiden, excitedly.
"You got acollar?"
Aiden pulledfrom the messenger bag a brown leather dog collar with a chrome buckle andD-ring for attaching a leash.
"I guess youdo got a collar," Lorenzo snickered. "Are you gonna put it on?"
"Would youput it on me, Sir?"
"Come here,slave!" barked Lorenzo, getting into the spirit.
Lorenzo snatchedAiden by his undershirt, and quickly buckled the collar around the faggot'sthroat.
"Are youhappy now, you stone freak?"
"Yes, Sir,"said Aiden, beaming with an incandescent euphoria the cocaine in his systemalone could not explain.
Next, Aidenproduced a studded, leather wristband.
"Thisbelonged to Master Louis. I wanted you to have it."
Lorenzo wasalmost tempted to try it on, but that would make him the faggot's new Master,and he had something else in mind.
Before goingdown that road, Lorenzo was going to get his dick sucked. The crack pipe, scotch,porn, and the slave shit this crazy whiteboy was going on about was making himintensely horny.
WhateverLorenzo felt about faggots no longer applied. This was different. This wasgoing to be fun.
"You wanna suckmy dick real bad, don't you," said Lorenzo.
That was nota question but a statement of fact.
"Yes, Sir."
Aiden fidgetedwith unconcealed excitement.
"I told you Idon't get down with fags," Lorenzo went on. "If you wanna suck my sweet dick,you gotta convince me first. I ain't made up my mind yet about this shit,aiiight? You understand what I'm telling you?"
`Yes, Sir. Ithink so, Sir."
"You're notfoolin' no one. I know what you're about. Giving a nigga cash money on theregular, buying him porn, luring him to this hotel room in the middle of ablizzard to get blasted, hoping for some of this big black dick like you'reentitled to it and shit. Yeah, I got you figured out. You need to beg for thisshit. Beg for the dick, slave!"
Aidendropped to the floor on his knees. He looked up at Lorenzo, sitting regally atthe edge of the narrow bed in his wifebeater and tented drawers. The black chin-beardreminded Aiden of the ancient pharaohs.
"Please,Sir, I'm begging, can I please suck your magnificent cock?" Aiden intoned."Please, I know you have a beautiful perfect black cock, Sir, and it would bean honor to give you the best blowjob you ever got, because you deserve thebest, you are a prince, a king, a god, please use this miserable pathetic faggot,Sir, oh, please may I take your cock down my throat, please Sir..."
"Hold up!"Lorenzo interjected. "What kind of shit is that? Sounds like you're readingfrom a script. Look me in the eye and tell me what you want to do for me andwhy you wanna do it. None of that porno talk."
"Yes, Sir,"said Aiden, making eye-contact, something never allowed by Louis. He gulped,and uttered in normal tones, "I want to suck your cock because I am acock-sucking faggot, Sir."
"That's morebetter. What else you got to say for yourself?"
"You're thereal man I've been looking for since Master Louis went away. It would be an honorto serve you, Sir. I mean that, sincerely."
"You'dbetter."
The windhowled and rattled the ancient window panes. Snow continued falling heavily likeit was the end of the world. It was cold outside, but the radiator made theroom toasty warm.
Lorenzopeeled off his wifebeater revealing a lean, defined physique. He could feel thefaggot's hungry eyes slithering from his dark cinnamon chest down to thechiseled abs. Then, he slipped off the boxer shorts.
Aiden's facewas only a few inches from Lorenzo's brown sausage and heavy, low-hangingballs.
The musk ofthe black man's groin was like an aphrodisiac making the faggot slave droolwith anticipation. He wanted to wrap his lips around that tantalizing cock, andget it throbbing hard with his mouth.
He couldalmost taste it on his tongue when Lorenzo's deep voice broke the spell.
"Smoke somemore of this shit with me before you get bizzy, bitch." Said Lorenzo, offeringthe glass pipe. "Take a deep hit. Hold it in your lungs long as you can. Blowthe smoke on my dick."
The pipe setoff another dopamine explosion in Aiden's brain, releasing a wave of euphoriathroughout his body.
Coughing,Aiden faggot expelled the smoke as directed. The flaccid brown cock quiveredand began to expand.
Aiden wentto work, wrapping his lips around the large, meaty head, suckling it in hismouth, savoring its distinct flavor, before taking on the shaft.
Lorenzo setthe pipe aside. For some reason, he did not need another hit. The voices in hishead were silent.
"Oh, yeah,fuck. Suck on it, suck it, suck it like that," Lorenzo groaned. "Damn, bitch,is that your tongue? Yeah, keep doing that. Yeah, like that. Suck it."
This wasAiden's first black cock in almost twelve months since Louis got locked up. Atfirst he tried giving blowjobs to white guys, but afterwards he always felt sickto his stomach. White cock was no good for him. Only dark meat seemed to havethe right savory flavor and aroma, not to mention it always came in suchgenerous portions.
Aidenapplied his lips, tongue, and throat in every way imaginable to bring maximumsexual pleasure to Lorenzo's sensitive, engorged, erogenous flesh.
Instincttook over like a deep, masterful voice chanting in Aiden's head: suck it suckit suck it suck it suck it suck it.
Aiden'stousled head bobbed to the rhythm.
There was nopast nor future, no one else in the entire world but the two of them, bound tothis transaction. There was only the bliss of a hard black dick sliding in andout of his throat, and the sound of Lorenzo's voice:
"Oh, yeah,fuck. Suck on that shit, yeah, suck it... Fuck yeah, that feels fuckin' good... Keep suckin' that dick don't stop... You fuckingfaggot, yeah, suck my dick... Do your job, bitch. Yeah, don't stop, slobber onit... All the way down, yea,h bitch, deep throat that meat... Choke on daddy's dick,motherfucker... Show me how much you love suckin' dick, faggot... There you go,just like that... I'm gonna cum when I'm ready, you just keep doin your job,whitey... Up and down... yeah, down like that... All the way down... Stay down there...Feel my nuts bouncing off your chin... Yeah, you like that don't you... fuckingqueer... choke on that dick... why you holdin out on me... You know you can suck dick better than that...Suck it harder... Yeah, keep suckin', keep suckin', keep suckin'..."
Lorenzo'svoice trailed off as he lay back with his hand behind his head, eyes closed,while Aiden's head bobbed up and down. Every now and then, Lorenzo opened hiseyes and muttered, "Keep suckin... Suck it harder..."
The faggotwas definitely good at his job, maybe too good. There was no sense of conquestfor Lorenzo. Something about a female's reluctance made a blowjob so muchhotter. Plus, a woman's lips are softer and fuller.
Still,faggots had their uses, Lorenzo conceded. What decent woman would put up withthe abuse a brother sometimes needs to get out of his system? Only a faggot wasgood for that. You could probably piss on a faggot and it wouldn't matterexcept he would probably give thanks and ask for more.
Withoutwarning, Lorenzo grabbed the faggot's head with both hands and thrust his dick witha flurry of swift, deep strokes, drilling balls-deep, grunting, sweating,pumping until the white hot sperm spurted down the faggot's throat in spasms.
Lorenzostretched out across the bed, satisfied. Aiden sat on the floor against thewall with his knees drawn up. After a few minutes, Lorenzo was sound asleep,snoring lightly.
Snowcontinued to fall.
Aidenremained where he was for several hours.
Lorenzoopened his eyes, sat up, and stretched.
"Let me holdyour phone," he said.
Aidenlistened intently to the one-sided conversation which ensued.
"Sup, nigga?Nah, I'm good... Check this out, I'm holed up in the old hotel on Broad Street...yeah, the Phoenix... that's the one.... Room 305... why don't you stop by... I knowit's snowin' like a motherfucker.... But there's someone here I want you to meet...for real, man.... Got a little party goin' down, know what I'm sayin'? You'llfind out when you get here... word, cuz.... Yeah, bring summa that good shit... don'tworry about it.... nah, I'm tellin you, I got money... we good, man... aiiight,cool..."
Lorenzo heldonto the phone. No sense giving it back. He knew the faggot wanted him to keepit.
"Who wasthat?" asked Aiden.
"That was mycousin," said Lorenzo. "He's comin over. You gonna like this cat."
"Um, Ithought it was just gonna be you and me?" Aiden started to rise.
"Sit yo' assback down, bitch! You ain't goin' nowhere. Where's that pipe? Why don't take acouple hits while we wait."
Aidenfetched the pipe, put the last sliver of rock in the tip, and lit it up. Hetook a long, deep intake of harsh smoke. He felt it rush to his head likeliquid lightning. He felt like he was floating.
Aidenoffered the pipe to Lorenzo, who refused.
"Nah, I'mgood. I don't think I'm gonna need that shit no more. It's like that faggotblowjob did somethin to me... I can't explain it. Go on, smoke it up. When youget done, bring that mouth over, and suck my dick some more."
For an hour,Aiden lay between Lorenzo's legs with his face buried in the thug's crotch. Itwas one of the slow, easy jobs. Lorenzo didn't want to get off, he just wantedto feel that warm, wet mouth on his dick.
While Aidensuckled on the semi-hard black tool, Lorenzo played with the phone. The voicesin his head were gone. He felt reborn, more alive than he had felt in years.
There was aknock at the door.
"Yo, it'sunlocked, man!" Lorenzo cried out.
Jay-Q saunteredin, followed by another black man. They were dressed for the weather with heavycoats and woolen ski caps. They stamped the snow off their Timberlands.
"Dayummm,nigga," exclaimed Jay-Q. "I see you took my advice."
Aiden was sopreoccupied and so stoned, he did not feel at all self-conscious being caught inhis underwear with a collar around his throat and a dick in his mouth.
"You wasright, cuz," Lorenzo laughed. "A faggot ain't nothing but a mouth. Who's that yougot with you?"
"This here'sShiloh," said Jay-Q. "He was standin' outside in the cold. Got kicked outta hiscrib by his old lady. I figured since you said there was a party, what thefuck."
"It's cool,man. Nice to meet you, Shiloh. Hope you don't got a problem with me gettin mydick sucked. Whiteboy here get beggin to blow me, so I just gave in, naw mean?"
"Ain'tnothin but a party, yo!" laughed Shiloh. "Tell me that head is as good as itlooks!"
Shiloh appearedabout twenty of average height, a sharp-looking redbone sporting a fresh fadewith waves and stubble on his cheeks.
Said Jay-Q:"You lookin good, nigga. I brought that good shit you wanted."
"It's notfor me," said Lorenzo. "I'm straight. But the whiteboy is gonna want some. Yo,fag-boy! Pay the man."
Aidenscrambled to his feet, dug his wallet from his trousers on the floor, and pluckedout five twenties. "Is this enough?" he asked, sheepishly.
"That'llwork for now," Jay-Q smiled.
Jay-Q was adeep, rich chocolate, with carven cheekbones, short sponge twists, and blackdiamond studs in both earlobes.
"It's snowin'like a motherfucker," said Shiloh. "They say we supposed to get nine inches!"
"You hearthat, faggot?" Lorenzo roared. "But we already know you can handle nine inches,am I right!"
Aiden didn'tknow what to say. He held the gram bag of crack in his hand, and was reachingfor the glass pipe with the other from the nightstand.
"So, this isthe whiteboy you was tellin' me about," said Jay-Q. He gave Aiden a long lookfrom head to toe. His lips curled into a sneer of contempt. "What's that roundhis neck?"
"Thatthere's his collar."
"What is he,like, your pet?" Jay-Q snorted.
"Naw, that collarmeans he's a slave!" inserted Shiloh.
Jay-Q shotthe light-skinned brother a quizzical look.
"Hey, I knowshit," snapped Shiloh. "Ain't you never seen white bitches wearing dog collars?Means they a nigga's slave. It's a sex thang."
"I didn'tknow that," shrugged Jay-Q, which was the truth.
"Yeah, whena bitch wears a collar, that's supposed to mean you're their master," Shiloh explained."Basically, it means you own them. They're your property and shit."
"You a pimpnow, cuz?" Jay-Q asked. "You gonna have this fag turn tricks?"
"Whose gonnapay a fag to suck his dick?"
"True dat."
"Actually,"said Shiloh, "there's a lot of white fags will pay another fag for oral sex."
"How do youknow this shit?" said Jay-Q.
"I beenround the block a few times. There's a club uptown where a lot of fags hangout. I go there for the music and free drinks. Whiteboys love to spend thatcash."
"You messwith a lot of fags?" asked Lorenzo, suspiciously.
"I dip anddab."
"Let's getthis jam started," Jay-Q changed the subject. "I think your fag wants to smokesumma that shit for real."
The wayAiden was staring at the pipe made that deduction fairly obvious. He had aglazed, hypnotized look in his eye.
Jay-Q andShiloh pulled up the wooden desk chair and ratty-looking armchair.
"What yougot to drink around here?" inquired Shiloh.
Lorenzopointed to the scotch and bourbon on the dresser. Jay-Q poured Dewars into aplastic cup. Shiloh helped himself to Old Crow.
Like he hadbeen doing it all his life, Aiden took the razor blade to a small chunk ofrock, and sliced it into smaller particles.
He took thefirst hit, then held out the pipe to whoever wanted it next. Shiloh finished itoff with several deep inhalations, then passed the pipe to Jay-Q who refilledthe bowl.
Lorenzo onceagain abstained.
"Dayummm, bruh,you have changed!" exclaimed Jay-Q, more than a little astonished. "I neverseen you turn down a pipe before."
"I know,right? It's the damnedest thing. I just don't need that shit now. Wanna knowwhat I think?"
"Whazzat?"
"I thinkgettin my chunk sucked by this fag changed me, yo. It cleared my head. I don'thear them voices no more."
"So yousayin all you needed was a good blowjob all this time?"
"Word isbond, cuz! I think that's what did it."
"Ain't thata bitch." Jay-Q scratched his head. "All this time, you could've been straightall this time if you just stopped smoking long enough to get some head."
"That's justit," said Lorenzo. "I been had bitches on my shit, but it's not the same. Itwas this faggot did it. Something about him."
The three catslooked at the collared whiteboy busily puffing on the pipe, oblivious to them.
"Yo,whiteboy," said Jay-Q. "How long you been smokin this shit?"
"I justtried it today for the first time."
The whiteboy'svoice sounded scratchy from the smoke, not to mention sucking cock. His lipswere puffy.
"You need togo easy on that shit," Shiloh advised. "Let me hold that pipe. I got something'better for you to smoke."
The youngbrother unbuckled his pants. Out sprang his member, a long brown tube of flesh.
"Put your mouthon it," he ordered.
Thecocksucker went to work, gobbling dick into his mouth. The crack high fueledhis lust. His head moved back and forth as the dick got hard. Not quite as longas Lorenzo's pole, maybe an inch shy of nine. But it smelled and tasted just asgood. Saliva drooled from the corners of Aiden's mouth.
"Oh,shittttt," grunted Shiloh. "This faggot can suck a dick! Can you deep throatit, bitch? Get it all the way down yo throat. Show me what you can do!"
Aiden's facepressed against the young-blood's furry groin. The funky, cloying aroma ofsweat filled his nostrils.
Jay-Q lookedon with round eyes, truly impressed. He palmed his crotch, feeling his own naturestarting to stir.
"Fuck, Igotta sit down for this shit," Shiloh groaned.
He loweredhimself back into the chair, as Aiden dropped to his knees, not removing hismouth for a second.
"Oh fuckkkk,that's what I'm talkin about! Yahhhhh, cocksucker, suck that dick. Suck thatblack dick, bitch!"
"So, cuz,what you were saying about this faggot, you really think that's why you don'twant the rock no more."
"What else?"
"Dayummm."Jay-Q shook his head with disbelief. "How long do you think it's gonna last?What happens when it wears off?"
"I got thatworked out," Lorenzo grinned. "Got me a slave now. Goin' back to his crib afterit stops snowing. Gonna live out in the suburbs and get my dick sucked everyday. Movin' on up, know what I'm sayin?"
Lorenzo andhis cousin bumped fists.
"Wait, I'mnot gonna see you around no more?"
"Naw, man,you gonna come and stay over long as you want. I'll have my slave fix us somesteaks, and we can chill. Shiloh, you invited too."
"Cool."
Shiloh hadhis hands on Aiden's collar, working the cocksucker's head to the tempo hedesired.
Aiden's greeneyes were wide open, looking up at the handsome, youthful face of the man whoselong brown member felt so good inside his mouth.
Jay-Q: "Youtapped this faggot's pussy yet?"
Lorenzo:"Nah, I don't know if I'm ready for all that. I just like the way the bitchgives head."
"Mind if Ihit that ass?"
"Naw, cuz.Go ahead. Bitch probably needs to get fucked."
"Oh, hedefinitely needs to get fucked," Jay-Q chortled.
"Keep suckinthat dick," growled Shiloh. "You gonna make me bust this nutt."
Kneelingbehind Aiden, sucking assiduously, Jay-Q ripped the faggot's boxers and flungthem aside. Then, he lowered his pants and drawers, spit a few times on hisdick, already hard, and placed it like a spear between the two plump mounds ofsoft, white flesh.
Finding thehole, he made a sudden vigorous thrust.
In thatinstant several things happened at once.
Aiden pulledaway from Shiloh's dick with a yelp of pain as Shiloh ejaculated all over thewhiteboy's forehead, nose, and chin. Cum and tears streamed down Aiden's face.
The rumbleof thunder-snow rattled the window panes.
Jay-Q slappedAiden's rump. His long dick pounded with mounting force, harder and harder,mercilessly.
"Give thisbitch another hit," said Jay-Q.
Shiloh heldthe pipe to Aiden's lips and lit it up. He felt again the euphoric rush. Therewas no more pain. Only the wonderful sensation of his ass being drilled, andknowing he was nothing more than a hungry hole, an aperture to be filled withhard, thick, demanding blackness.
Ittranscended the sensual, gratifying some deep, innate, psychological longing tobe used. The vicarious enjoyment of a real man's sexual vigor.
"That pussytight, cuz?" asked Lorenzo.
"Fuckyahhh," grunted Jay-Q.
His handsomefeatures were twisted into something almost bestial. No longer impassive, butan expression of raw sexual pleasure, the rough, animal thrusts, movingrapidly, making his hard dick even harder.
The whitefaggot's pussy cunt fuck-hole was very snug indeed as if it could not possiblyhave been designed for any other purpose.
"Don't wearthat bitch out," said Shiloh. "I wanna get summa that."
"Yeah,blood," Lorenzo chortled. "You tearin' that shit up! I might need to hit thattoo."
After a fewminutes, Jay-Q hollered, "You sweet little slut. Yahhhhhh, bitch! You about to makeme skeet."
"Fuckmefuckmefuck meeee!" Aiden squealed.
He could nothelp himself. The words came out incoherently. He never wanted this to end. Hefelt connected to something more powerful than he had ever known before. MasterLouis used to fuck his ass, but never like this.
Never thishard, never this forcefully.
For the nextfew hours, the trinity of thugs took turns pumping the whiteboy in the mouthand ass.
All butLorenzo kept hitting the pipe. The liquor bottles were empty. No one noticedthe snow stopped coming down.
The orgy offucking went on until they got hungry.
Using one ofAiden's credit card, Lorenzo had Chinese delivered. He did not even bothergetting dressed when he met the Asian delivery boy at the door.
A slenderfellow with glossy black hair and golden skin whose almond eyes turned roundwith astonishment at the sight of three naked Black men. Aiden was on his kneesgiving Jay-Q a blowjob. The brother's hand pressed down on the whiteboy's head,keeping it in place.
"What'sgoing on, guys?"
The lad'snose wrinkled at the smell of crack and sweat which pervaded the room, yet heappeared reluctant to leave.
"We'rehavin' a party," said Lorenzo. "You like faggots?"
"Depends. Thisdude a friend of yours?"
"Nah, he'smy slave," Lorenzo stated.
"Your slave?For real?"
"We didn'trape this cracker, if that's what you think."
"He wants tobe a slave," said Jay-Q. "We're just giving the punk what he wants. It's likewe're doing him a favor, you feeling me? You got a problem with that?"
"I don'thave a problem with that at all."
Minuteslater, the delivery boy was getting his eggroll sucked. It was not that large ofa tool, but enough to content Aiden while Lorenzo, Jay-Q, and Shiloh ate friedrice and the General's chicken.
"Best tip Iever got," said the Chinese delivery boy, after spattering Aiden's face withsperm.
"I think myballs are drained," said Shiloh, getting dressed.
"Yeah, I'mdone too," said Jay-Q.
Lorenzobarked at Aiden to put on some clothes.
The partywas over. It was time to head out. The storm was over.
"I'll callyou when I get to the new crib," Lorenzo told his cousin.
"You stillfeelin' aiiight? The voices, I mean."
"Yeah," saidLorenzo. "But I been thinkin'... Maybe it wasn't the blowjob that did the trick,ya know? I been had head... and that never stopped the craziness before. You knowthat skeezer Lucretia from round the way? Chickenhead gobbled my chunk plentyof times, and she never made me feel like this."
"Interesting,"Jay-Q murmured.
"Maybe itwasn't the head," mulled Shiloh, stroking his beard. "Maybe all you needed wasa white faggot in your life. Maybe the white man is the reason you went alittle crazy to begin with, you know?"
"That's deep,"said Lorenzo.
THE END