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KNOCKED OFF HIS PERCH - Part 5
Greg figured he had about an hour before the police would be looking for the truck. He decided despite the warning he was given to not return to his condo, he would swing by for a quick shower, clean up and grab some of his own fresh clothes.
As he drove by the loading dock of his building, he noticed two box trucks being loaded. This was not unusual as people were always moving in and out of the building. What caught his attention was that the leather sofa being loaded onto one of the trucks, looked exactly like his.
He parked the truck on the street and snuck his way into the back door of the building and up to his floor. He was surprised to find the door to his condo open and a hub of activity inside. There were men that were disconnecting his big screen tv, desk top computer and other electronics. There were men that were loading his furniture onto large flatbed hand trucks to carry downstairs. Others were removing artwork and boxing valuables. He walked into the bedroom and saw others going through his private possessions. His expensive tailored suits, starched hanging shirts, sweaters and other luxurious clothes were balled up and placed into plastic bins to cart away. His dresser drawers had been dumped on the floor for men to sort. The items of not much value, like socks, underwear and tee shirts were being jammed into large black plastic bags and hauled to a waiting dumpster. He correctly assumed that the cash he had stashed in his underwear drawer had been found. One of the workers picked it up and discreetly put it in his pocket. He was not about to log it in. There were two large boxes containing all of Greg's dress shoes, boots, and trainers. Anything of value was being hauled away to auction, everything else was going in the trash. The deputies had strict orders to get the condo emptied and ready for sale.
Greg was mortified. The marshal in charge approached Greg and asked him what he was doing there. Greg replied that this was his condo and the marshal told him that he was not supposed to be there and ordered him out. Greg asked for his laptop computer with all his personal and business information and the marshal laughed. He pleaded with him to allow him to grab a few things and the marshal replied sternly, "Absolutely not." He lunged for the computer and one of the marshals stuck his foot out and tripped Greg. He fell flat on his face. He got up and lunged towards the marshal and the one in charge says, "That's it. You're under arrest for interfering with our process." Greg took a swing at another marshal and the one in charge told the others to grab him. Greg ran for the elevator and jumped in. As the doors were closing the marshal in charge told Greg that they were issuing a warrant for his arrest. When they catch him, he will be arrested again and sent back to jail. Now on top of everything else, Greg was a fugitive. He carefully slipped out the fire exit door and evaded the police.
Greg was freaking out. There was no way in hell he was going back to jail. He got in the truck and started driving. He was nervous and paranoid. He needed a plan but couldn't think straight. That's when he noticed the low fuel light on the dash. There was a convenience store ahead, so he pulled in and used the $22 dollars in his pocket to buy gas. He went to move the truck to the curb so he could run in and use the bathroom and accidently tapped the car next to him. Could this day get any worse? He checked the car and the truck and there was not a scratch on either. It was just a gentle tap and he thought to himself that he really lucked out on this one.
He went back into the convenience store, down the long narrow hallway into the mens room. He was standing at the urinal taking a piss when the door opened and a middle aged African American man entered, turned, and locked the door.
He started screaming at Greg. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he think that he could just hit his car and take off? He saw everything and suggested that Greg did it on purpose. Greg couldn't get a word in edgewise. He said he was going to call the cops and noticed Greg's reaction. He could tell that Greg did not want the cops involved. He knew that he had Greg by the short hairs. He wanted to know how he was going to be compensated. Greg tried to apologize but the man wouldn't listen. He asked Greg how much cash he had, and Greg replied that he had none. He pulled out the empty wallet in his back pocket and showed him. The man asked him how he couldn't have any cash and restated, this time more emphatically, that he needed to be compensated.
He was analyzing Greg up and down when he finally said, "You know, these shoes of mine are kind of worn out. Those boots you're wearing would probably look better on me. What do you think?" Greg hesitated and the man got in his face and said, "You really want me to have those boots, don't you?" Greg thought about it for a minute and realized if that's what it was going to take to get rid of this crazy dude, then he would do it. Finally, Greg replied that yes indeed, he wanted the man to have his boots. One by one he pulled them off and handed them over. The man turned towards the door, but quickly turned back. He told Greg that now that he had a nice pair of boots, he needed a jacket to go with them. What about it? Greg could live without the jacket, so he handed it over. The man said that the hat went with the jacket. Greg took the cowboy hat off his head, handed it over and the man put it on his head. The man went to leave but turned back. He wanted the shirt and Greg refused. He said absolutely not. The man said that was ok, but they would have to call the cops and fill out an accident report. Greg was screwed. He had no choice but to take off the shirt and hand it over. This was followed by the words which he dreaded when the man told Greg that if he offered him his pants, he wouldn't refuse them. But if he preferred, he could call the cops to fill out that report. That was Greg's clue to unbuckle his pants, lower them and step out. He handed them over. The man politely thanked Greg and told him it was a pleasure doing business with him.
Greg was standing in the dirty bathroom wearing nothing but a tee shirt, underwear, and socks. He was trying to figure out how he could walk through the store and get back to the truck. There was no way he could do it un-noticed. He had to decide quickly before someone else came into the bathroom. Then he heard what he feared, footsteps down the hall headed his way.
The door opened and he heard a commotion as the black man was pushed back into the bathroom, still carrying his clothes, followed by an even bigger black man who was not happy. "Floyd get your ass in here. I knew you were up to no good, you worthless piece of shit. You ain't no damn cowboy, what are you going to do with a hat and boots? How many times have I told you to leave these white faggotty boys alone. . . Now give him his shit back".
Greg was stunned as the man returned his clothes and the bigger man told Floyd to get the fuck out. The big man apologized for the way Greg had been treated, and Greg thanked him for getting his clothes back. Greg started to get dressed when the big man said, "Hold on there a minute, boy. You've got to show Uncle Joe your appreciation." Greg surprisingly looked at the man who told him that Uncle Joe needed some attention. He could start by coming on over and getting closer to him and while he was at it to ahead and remove his underwear and socks. Uncle Joe waited until Greg was completely naked. Greg felt a slight shiver as he stood butt naked in the cold, dirty and damp bathroom. Greg could not believe that this was happening to him again. Uncle Joe told Greg to get down on his knees and show him his gratitude. Greg was soon face to face with the biggest, widest, darkest cock he had ever seen. As the cock approached his face, he instinctively opened his mouth and the monster cock entered. Uncle Joe patted Greg seductively on the head and told him that he knew what do and go ahead and get started. Greg went to work and struggled to get the entire piece of meat into his throat. He gagged and choked but was committed to get the job done. He wanted to get off the filthy floor and out of the nasty bathroom as soon as possible. He licked, slurped, and sucked the cock and was amazed as it continued to grow. Uncle Joe kept pushing his head down further, Greg was able to control his breathing, and the giant cock responded. Uncle Joe trembled with satisfaction as the cock showed its excitement. Greg was working up a sweat and was soon rewarded with burst after burst of warm, salty cum. It was in his mouth, up his nose, in his ear and on his head. It was everywhere. Greg had never heard of so much cum coming out of one man.
Uncle Joe breathed a deep sigh of relief and said, "Damn boy. You're the best. How long have you been sucking cock?" Greg responded by saying that he was not a cock sucker, that he had a girlfriend and that he was straight. Uncle Joe replied that was bull shit. He knew a cock sucker when he saw one and could tell from Greg's mouth that it's had a few dicks in it and that from the looks of it, he could say the same thing about his ass. Greg blushed and insisted that he was 100% straight. Uncle Joe said, "Go on boy, you keep fooling yourself." This made Greg feel terrible because previously, nobody would have ever assumed that he was gay. How could he have changed that quickly?
Greg was trying to clean himself up and get dressed. Uncle Joe bragged to Greg that it was ok for him to be thrilled and excited. In reality, Greg was bummed and disillusioned at the assumption. Uncle Joe said that he had a few little white queer boys that couldn't stay away. He joked about, "Once you go black, you never go back". He invited Greg to return any time he wanted another round with his tasty black dick. Come back anytime. Greg was repulsed. He pulled the wrinkled clothes on as quickly as possible, not bothering to button up the shirt. He pulled the socks and boots on and grabbed his hat. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
Greg quickly came to the realization that if he was going to survive on the streets, he was going to have to learn how to defend himself. He was not going to allow anyone else to take advantage of him. Truth is he didn't know how. He was destitute, homeless, and vulnerable.