PART 1:
I got up from the bed, where Tina was still asleep, a slight smile for the late afternoon fun, and the spilled lotion bottle still running down the makeshift end table. Her perfect breasts outlined by the sheets. Her chest rising and falling igniting the fever in my brain that would keep me in tonight. I purposely turned away and pulled on my boots pulling my hair back into a pony tail. I jumped up and grabbed my worn leather coat, I headed out into the early night to see if I could turn a few tricks before the sun rose. I wondered to myself how the other half lived, not worrying about where the next meal would come from, or if the rent could be paid, or if they could even sell their body that night. There was very little money left, my stomach had been rumbling for two days, and Tina's for one. The sex took our mind off our hunger for a while, but just a little while. I envied Tina's sleep, it would allow her to have relief from the hunger. I let these thoughts fade from my mind, as I readied myself for the night.
The streetlight flashed overhead, on and off as it hummed a soothing sound. The summer night was warm, leaving my leather coat over my shoulder revealing my tight body over my tighter tee. Cars slowly passing by, the tail lights flashing red declaring their interest as they would slow down to look at me. I leaned against the lamp post trying to look disinterested as I noted one well appointed black sedan that passed by for the third time. The driver looked older, and that usually meant a long slow night, but lots of cash. I could get it up for old and young alike, it's easy with the thought of deeply penetrating a willing hole. The black sedan pulled around the corner for the fourth time, I decided that it was time to make my move. I pushed myself away from the lamp post, stepping off the curb to stand in front of the car. The black sedan slowly pulled to a stop in front of me, I boldly walked around to the passenger door, and waited for the lock to open. As soon as it clicked, I opened the door climbing into the passenger seat, throwing my coat into the back seat. Without a word the car pulled away from the curb, I stared at the driver, expensive suit, pants, high polished shoes, a bit of grey streaking the full head of hair. At his age, he was hansom leading me to imagine what he was like in his prime.
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300 Tricks. A Tale Of BDSM At Its Best
Short Story100 Tricks is a gay/streight adventure of a hustler meeting his fate. Will he like what he finds in himself?