Strays
Chapter 3
I don't remember how long Teardrop and I ran together, but I'm guessing it was only a couple of weeks. He spent most of his time taking off with Casanova to do God knows what, leaving me to wait for him at the library, sometimes heading back to SAMM shelter without him. One night, he didn't show at all, leaving me to deal with the crowd of strangers alone, then laughed it off when I found him waiting outside the next morning. I had the distinct feeling he and Casanova had hooked up, or met up with some women for a little straight guy sex, maybe even throwing down in a three-way because he didn't fuck me that morning, which was his usual. My opinion of Casanova was growing darker every time they took off together. Still, was daily taking Teardrop's seven-inch dick up the ass and sucking him off every chance I got. What made things harder for me was realizing that I was sure I was in love with him. What can I say? I was young and had never had a boyfriend before.
My imagined, wannabe boyfriend's handsome Latino sidekick was from his old neighborhood. Casanova was suave and sexy, always chatting up girls he met on the street. He had that whole Latin lover thing going for him in spades, and a pair of sultry green eyes you couldn't stop looking at. The fact that he was homeless and staying in shelters didn't seem to bother any of those girls. He was that hot.
Casanova knew about other, smaller shelters and service organizations that he clued us in on. He took us to a Rescue Mission that had an extensive clothing closet, a limited number of beds, and a hot meal after a guest Preacher from one of the churches tried to convince us we needed Christ in our lives. It was quiet there, and I enjoyed the break from the busy, overcrowded shelter, despite it being Teardrop's creepy mouse of a friend's favorite haunt. He stayed for dinner, talking with Teardrop and Casanova while occasionally glancing my way to give me the eye. Teardrop hated the eight o'clock bedtime and being forced to listen to a sermon, so we didn't return to the Mission again. I didn't have a problem with that as long as it meant I didn't have to be anywhere near the mouse.
One night, Teardrop informed me that we weren't staying at the shelter. Casanova had a place he and Teardrop crashed at when they stayed out, and he wanted me to join them. When I asked why, he told me he wanted to sleep with me next to him. That was sweet, and about as romantic as it got with him. It was a side of him I had not seen.
The place was an old, abandoned house, so we held off going there until just before nightfall. Once we were in, we were in until morning. Although the two of them previously entered the place after nightfall, Teardrop said it was hazardous in some places, and he didn't want to chance my getting hurt. That made me relax about the whole situation, knowing he would protect me. It also hinted at his having feelings toward me that were deeper than he expressed.
So, we entered just as the sun was setting, when the light was gray, and the street lights were flickering on. We climbed in through a window that was boarded up, but not very securely, so you could lift it away to crawl in. After we were all inside the dark building, which smelled of urine, and God knows what else, we climbed the stairs, Teardrop's hand firmly on mine, to what must have been a bedroom at one time. There, Casanova had makeshift beds with blankets, and we settled in for the night. We stayed up for a while, talking about nothing in the increasing darkness, often with Teardrop and Casanova speaking in Spanish.
When the time came for us to sleep, and I lay down with Teardrop on our bed, snuggling into him in the pitch darkness. He kissed me for a while, grabbing at my butt, then pushed my head toward his crotch. I knew my cue and set about freeing his hardon. I sucked his cock and fondled his heavy ball sack for a while, relishing the feel of his foreskin in my mouth, playing with it by gently scraping my teeth against it and flicking the top edge of it with my tongue, holding it over the head and sucking on it like a lollipop. I deep throated his cock, making it slick with saliva, knowing from past experiences what would come next.
He pulled me up to him and kissed me again while I shimmied out of my pants. He climbed on top of me and slipped his spit slick cock into me, fucking me hard as soon as he was inside me. I loved the rough nature of his fucking, straight forward and to the point. He always took his time unless we were somewhere we might get found out, slamming his cock deep, fucking me with long strokes that made me moan every time and left me feeling like I had been properly fucked. There was nothing fancy about the way he fucked, but it was effective and brought me to a swooning drift of ecstasy that far surpassed any ordinary orgasm. I was often left with an ass full of his cum, with the certainty that he only fucked me with the intent of busting a nut. I was okay with that. I just wished he was a little more intimate about it.
After a good ass pounding, he came inside me and pulled out, rolling off me immediately to pull his pants up. I pulled mine up to, then snuggled up next to him.
"Go take care of Casanova," he told me.
"What?" I asked, stunned and confused. I was sure I hadn't heard him right.
"You heard me," he huffed, "Go show him a good time." He pushed me away from him.
"No!" I protested. I was totally devoted to him, and thought this might be a test of loyalty, to see if I would cheat on him. I would never do that.
"Go!" he insisted, pushing me hard enough to send me rolling away from him. "Do as I say, because you're not sleeping with me until you have his load inside you."
Confused and blind in the darkness, I started crawling toward Casanova, calling out his name in a weird version of Marco Polo. I finally found him, his hand finding mine to pull me toward him. I ran my hands over his clothed body, searching for the fly in his pants. He caught my hand to stop me.
"You don't have to do this," he whispered to me, "Just lie down here and sleep with me."
I debated Casanova's proposal with Teardrop's insistence that I wouldn't sleep with him again if I didn't have sex with Casanova. I unfastened his pants and freed his dick, taking the flaccid flesh into my mouth to work him to erection. Even though I couldn't see it, I could tell that Casanova was a little bigger than Teardrop was. Under other circumstances, I might have been delighted, but I was only doing this to make Teardrop happy. I sucked Casanova's dick in the darkness, crouched on my knees between his legs, bobbing my head above his prone body, listening to his breathing as it became more rapid, edging on moaning. There was nothing special about the blow job I gave him. I just wanted to get him off so I could go back to Teardrop.
He sat up and moved to the inner edge of the blanket, pulling me down next to him. I pulled off my pants when he lay me on my back, then rested my legs on his shoulders. He pushed his thickness into me with one harsh trust. My breath caught as I confirmed he was bigger than Teardrop, feeling my ass stretch a little around his girth. He drove his length into me and began fucking me gently. The initial thrust met with the gentle, almost melodic motion of his body above me took me by surprise. It was as if his cock was dancing with my asshole, every smooth thrust sending me deeper into waves of pleasure that crashed over me again and again, each ebbing less and less before cresting and flooding throughout my body again.
He lowered my legs and I wrapped them around his waist. He lay atop me, supporting his weight on his elbows, kissing me deeply while he fucked me hard and deep, barely pulling out before ramming into me again. He nibbled on my ear and sucked on my neck while he ground his pelvis in to me. I yelped with delight when he rammed into me hard, moaned when he stroked in and out long and slow, screamed out his name and totally forgot Teardrop was in the room listening when he fucked me furiously.
I don't know if it was his size, or the fact that I was thoroughly lubed with Teardrop's nut, or if he was just that damn good in bed, but Casanova fucked me so well that to this day he was one of the best sexual experiences of my life. In and out, back and forth he manipulated my hole, forcing moans and squeals of delight from my lips. My entire body seemed to burn with desire for him, my toes curled as the pleasure mounted higher and higher until I felt a dam burst and I was overwhelmed with the sudden awareness of my own cum being spit out of my cock and onto my belly. I released a scream mixed with a grunt, a sound I had never made before.
"Oh, fuck!" I called out to no one in particular, "I'm cumming!"
By the time he came in me, mixing his seed with Teardrop's, I was half out of my mind and completely focused on the man I couldn't see. He remained on top of me after he finished, kissing me while his cock slowly deflated and slipped out of me on its own accord. I clinched my sphincter hard to prevent his cum from leaking out, not wanting to lose any of it.
After we separated, I shakily found my pants and pulled them back on. I went commando because I couldn't find my underwear. As I moved to find my way back to Teardrop, Casanova grabbed my arm and pulled me down to lie next to him. I fell asleep in the soft embrace of his arms, his body spooning mine.
In the morning, Teardrop acted as if nothing had happened, but Casanova was a little on edge. I was worried he was upset that he fucked me the night before, that he wished he hadn't. As is usually the case, due to my fucked up up-bringing, I internalized his problem and made it my own.
"He doesn't love you," Casanova told me when we were alone. Teardrop had gone into one of the public bathrooms open that early in the morning to take a piss. "He's just using you. He wants to turn you out."
"I don't know what that means."
"He's grooming you, so he can pimp your ass out for money. I'm the first guy he's forced you to have sex with, but I won't be the last. Once you stop resisting him, he'll have you out on Boys Avenue selling you to any guy who will pay for it. And it'll be an easy sell, too. You look like a little kid."
"What do I do?" I asked him, thinking I could salvage my relationship with Teardrop. At the time, I didn't know the difference between love and lust, and lust is sometimes the stronger of the two emotions.
"You get away from him, or you do as he wants."
"But where am I going to go? Every place I know where to eat or sleep is a place he knows about. Even if I could lose him, he'll just find me again."
"Do you want out?" he asked, looking back at the bathrooms nervously.
"I don't want to be a piece of meat sold to the highest bidder."
"Okay," he said after a moment of thought, "I'll take care of it."
Teardrop emerged from the bathroom and rejoined us. As we went through the motions of the morning, I forgot all about my conversation with Casanova. He also seemed to have forgotten it and appeared to be as relaxed as he usually was.
That night, they left me at SAMM shelter and went out to do whatever it is they did together on their nights away from me. I spent the evening talking with a guy called "Austin" (on account of his being from there) who I bummed a cigarette from and discovered I'd been given the street name "Red" on account of the color of my hair. He was tall and lean with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, dirty blonde hair and the darkest blue eyes I'd ever seen. He usually ran with a small group of guys he introduced me to.
"Are you family?" asked one of the guys, a black guy with a flawless mocha complexion and a long fade that he had shaved around the sides and back while allowing the top to grow long. His name was Jackal and it was obvious that he played for my team
"He means to ask if yer gay," one of the others, a brunette wearing a cowboy hat with brown eyes and a thick southern accent asked with a chuckle.
"Oh, yeah," I answered, a little hesitantly.
"See, Cowboy," Jackal swore, hitting the cowboy in the arm, "I don't know why you keep doubting my gaydar."
"Sorry, honeybun," Cowboy laughed, "Ya know this is all new to me."
"Well, you just stick with us," Jackal told me, "There's safety in numbers."
I hung out with the group of them- Jackal, Cowboy, Trick, Lupe and Austin- for the rest of the night. Jackal, Trick and I sat at my bunk and chatted and gossiped together while "the boys" watched TV in the common area until lights out. I learned that Jackal and Cowboy were a couple, Lupe and Trick were best friends from high school, and Austin was "allegedly" straight, only hanging out with the group because of his friendship with Cowboy. It was the most fun I'd had in my entire life, and the sudden loss of light and parting of ways was all that much more disappointing.
In the morning, Teardrop wasn't waiting for me in front of the shelter, as he normally did. I hung out longer than usual, thinking he was just running late, then passed some more time with Austin after he gave me the rest of his pack of cigarettes. I protested, but he insisted, showing me that he'd just bought a fresh pack and was hoping to get out on a day labor ticket with Cowboy.
I searched and waited for Teardrop for about a week before eventually running into Casanova at Miss Winnie's one morning.
"Have you seen Teardrop?" I asked him point blank.
"You don't have to worry about him anymore," he told me. There was a finality in his voice.
"How did you get him to leave me alone?" I asked suspiciously, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
"I took care of it," he said, smiling, "He won't bother you again."
Casanova was right. I never saw Teardrop again but I I did run into Casanova years later. He was married with children, and doing well for himself, but the subject of Teardrop never came up, nor did the night he fucked me. It was as if the whole thing had never even happened.
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