His Name is Lester

By Mike Austin

Published on Nov 16, 2021

Gay

HIS NAME IS LESTER By Mike Austin

nasstop@yahoo.com

DEAR NIFTY READER;

Thanks for your time reading my story. If you are inclined, I'd love your comments and feedback.

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Further, this story contains interracial sex, hustling, dominance and submission. If those topics offend you or pose discomfort to you, please exit the story now.

Chapter 5

After Smitty's workout, I needed a nap. I slept soundly for an hour and woke refreshed and felt a workout at the gym was in order. Who am I kidding? I wanted to see if mystery man was at the corner on Saturday afternoon. I dressed and headed out in the Blue Miata convertible. The traffic was steady but not stop and go. I approached the Harbor/Pompano intersection and there he was. So many answers flooded my way now. I slowly cruised him, made the block and this time, pulled into the parking lot at the end of the strip center, just past where he stood scoping out the traffic. Backing into a space so that I could see him and be seen, Mystery Man turned slowly to see me not exiting my car for a trip to a store; rather just sitting there in the shade of a row of tall palms. He glanced again and I stretched my arms above my head, before folding them to my chest. He began walking along the sidewalk to the corner, paused then turned along one leg of palm trees and made his way back toward me. I never moved. As he approached from the passenger side, his grin grew wide and bright. Eyeing the Miata and nodding his approval, he spoke just barely loud enough to hear; "gotta a fine ride there bro, sweet and blue; that's my favorite color ya know". He continued to grow close and just at the edge of the car, stopped, eyed it inside and repeated his appeal, "real nice". "Name's Kyle my man" I offered and extended my hand to shake his. "Lester Boyd bro" he answered. The black cargo pants hid his crotch, but the bright yellow and white athletic shirt amplified Lester Boyd's dark blue-black torso; and made me need him BADLY.

"Climb in if you want, maybe grab something cool from Sonic around the corner" I urged. Nodding approval, he opened the door and slung his small ruck sack behind the front seat and sat back into the seat and splayed his long legs wide as possible in the Miata's tight seating compartment. We made small talk as we headed the short drive to Sonic; and once there I asked if he'd eaten and that I was ordering a Chicago-style hot dog and Coke, if he was interested. He accepted the offer and we sat visiting and waiting for the carhop to deliver our orders. The skater girl rolled out, tray in hand and once secured, took my cash and I waved her and her ample tip away. She beamed and returned inside for her next customer's order. Lester and I sat eating the over-stuffed hot dogs and sucking down the large iced Cokes. I parked at the end of the parking slips and the nearest car was two slips away so we had some isolation. "My man" Lester began, "seems to me you're lookin for some company this afternoon and I'm cool with helpin out, if you got the time and interest"? My heart raced. I ate a couple of bites quietly, then said "yeah I can always use your company man today and whenever it works for you" and looked deeply at his face. His face beamed that wide smile and he nodded slowly, "yeah sure we gonna keep each other real busy I think". I dropped my eyes to his crotch. He gave a slight grope and made an O ring of his thumb and index finger. "What type music you like Lester Boyd" I asked? "Jazz, soul, hip hop and reggae, but some hard rock too" he replied. "I got some tunes you might enjoy back at my place if you want to check `em out" I offered? "Figure we need some ground rules ya know bro, so no one gets put out" he shared staring at me. "Rules are always good" I countered. "Time's money like they say and mine's $20/hour just to be someplace; other action is an add-on if you get my drift" Lester spoke frankly. We finished our meal, offloaded the tray to the stand holder and backed away, heading to the townhouse. Lester was discrete as we sped along the highway and he seemed to enjoy the Miata's convertible freedom. I didn't want any stress or strain and after pulling onto the driveway approach at the back of the house, we made our way across the patio and inside. I pointed to the downstairs head if he needed it and he did. Returning, he explored the living area and wide entertainment wall. So let me be clear for $20/hour I get your company to eat, visit with, chill, right" I posed; he nodded approval; I continued "and for sex what're the rates"? We talked some and reached an agreement on fees for services rendered, then kicked back and listened to some blues, soft soul music, he especially liked Percy Sledge and Otis Redding, saying they were some of his mom's favorites. I urged him to get as comfortable as he wanted. He interjected "for the $20 rate right"? I nodded concurrence and he tugged off his high tops, socks and athletic shirt. His long legs were still masked in the black cargo pants, but his size 13 feet tipped me about coming attractions and his broad flat chest and hard eraser nips mounted on squared off pecs, teased me to the max I fixed some margaritas for us and he did some sow dancing with himself to the varied music coming from my large standing speakers. He remarked it was such solid sound and was like being at a live performance. I nodded agreement and handed Lester an oversized margarita which he toasted to me in mid-air. The corded forearms and biceps were tight and dark blue-black like it seemed all of Lester. I couldn't wait for a few more margaritas to get thrown back and begin the next fee levels.

When The Miracles "Tracks of My Tears" came on, Lester froze. "So many fine sounds there, such talent" revealing a real tender side of this mystery man. The hits sound moved through varied tracks, but when Jerry Butler was announced, "the ice man" Lester moaned- began "For Your Precious Love"; Lester closed his eyes and began singing aloud. I was stunned at the rich deep voice of this man. Clearly he'd practiced this talent as well. He slow danced with himself, eyes closed and stayed in sync with the Butler performance. Closing my eyes, it was as if the real man was there in my living room. I blinked and realized a real man WAS there, in my living room. He moved behind the sofa, leaned close and kissed me from behind. His thick slick tongue pressed the back of mine as though he was reaching for my heart. It was when he groped me and felt the cock cage securing me that his passion ramped up several notches. Whispering into my ear, "you wear this a lot" and gave another squeeze. "Often as needed" I replied and then came his inquiry, "who has your key"? I glanced at the large 60s wall clock and determined it had been 4 hours since first inviting Lester into the Miata... and I wasn't inclined to end it anytime soon, I realized. "A friend, employee, staffer" I rambled on. "MMMMMMMM that's a lucky STAFFER to control that part of you and keep you in check" Lester whispered. He began massaging my shoulders, my neck, then forward to my pecs; tweaking each nip and tugging it away from my pecs. "Any clamps for these to go along with your cage" he inquired? Leaning my head back on the sofa and looking into his eyes, "YES" and winked. "Guess we need to get a show and tell scenario goin" Lester stated directly, then bent my right arm behind the sofa and guided my hand to his crotch. There was no hiding the length nor girth down his right leg. "How does the scenario play out" I questioned? "You guess and I show, it's an easy game" he replied. "9 x 6" I offered to get things going. "Close" he whispered. My retort came fast "10x6"? He pulled back grinning, moved in front of me and the sofa and offered his crotch. I lost no time releasing his belt, unzipping him, tugging down the cargo pants and his Royal Blue boxer briefs to free his thick veiny cock. Swinging free of the clothes, his cock and heavy sack hung arched away from his body. The plum-colored head was already coated in precum and glistened. The ample piss slit denoted a power shooter and the massive dick tube beneath, reinforced the power volume he could fire. Those bull balls were swollen and needed my attention as well. Slowly rotating, Lester flexed his torso and arching his back, flexed his glutes as well. The darkly chiseled man before me was awesome, a work of sculpture, here in my living room.

We knew the drill without speaking. I slid from the sofa, onto my knees and looked up at the 6' stud before me. Tilting my head back, slowly opening my mouth and staring up at this onyx Adonis I extended my tongue while keeping my hands behind me. Lester stroked his cock over my face, then swiped his big glistening head across my tongue. "Whatcha need boy" Lester demanded of me? "Let me please you SIR" I responded. "You gonna do that aight" Lester spat out and began stroking his long veiny thick cock across my face as I tried to lick it. "You don't get to suck, just show me how needy you are boy- lick for it, keep your mouth wide open too" Lester demanded. "I ain't got no time for you pussyboy submissive wannabe slave types, you gotta be real for me to fuck wit you" Lester continued. That drill continued for an hour and I had slushed precum from my caged cock the entire time. My crotch was pasty with my own precum and I was squirming with growing eagerness to feel Lester down my throat or buried in my ass. He continued teasing me, slow stroking and at one point hoisted his heavy balls over my mouth and had me suck his sack. I slobbered my man's balllbag fully with my spittle. "Good faggot, lap em and make em your treat there boy" Lester added. I sucked his bag deeply and as he moaned, his hissing through his teeth reminded me of Ben just before he shoots. Lester began spanking his cock across my face adding "get the head in your mouth, work for it, go faggot, show me you want it, how much you want it, like a game and you nowhere near the goal line faggot, you ain't gettin fucked til you can deepthroat my fuckin dick n you can't even get it in your fag mouth". I was moaning loudly and trying to catch the swinging dick above my face, wrenching my head side to side, forward and back. Lester denied each attempt. Then suddenly after two hours of torture, he grabbed my head, told me to keep my mouth wide and started throatfucking me. I choked and gagged throat slime, spit and almost hurled, before he held my head firm and blasted cum down my eager throat. My own throat muscles helped the big dick erupt and I was proud of my effort. Every centimeter of my throat ached and was raw from the hard throat assault. Lester drained his Alpha balls, then pulled out of my mouth, wiped his dick across my face, turned and headed to the shower. "Get me two clean towels while I shower" he instructed. I complied. Our roles were well established. The end fee, once he was redressed and delivered back to the Harbor/Pompano intersection, approached four figures. We scheduled another session for next Saturday at lunch. After dropping him off, I returned home for my own shower and soak in the hot tub. The cell rang, Big Mike wanted to come over and had a friend. They'd see me about midnight.

Next: Chapter 6


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