Gender: Male Age: 21 Location: N/A
Once we were ready to listen the girls didn't have too much trouble convincing us they could be some use. After all, we were only fourteen years old and the truth was neither Patrick nor I knew how to drive, let alone had a license to do so. Where we grew up nobody learned how that early. Caroline had a car and she and Marlene could drive. If we ever wanted to hit the road they would come in handy. They had a whole lot of other information than no one our age could have known. How to do this and that and go here and there. It all started pouring out of both of them and straight over our heads. They got so excited they started jabbering away until it got boring. They only thing to do was stick them both back on the cocks until they calmed down. Marlene had a nice soft mouth, but even so, I wasn't sure I wanted to subject my cock to the abuse day in day out. I came in her mouth just to be a nice guy, as foolish as that is.
When we were leaving the room who should we run into but John Thompson coming out of another room with a couple of girls of his own. Behind him in the room a couple of old guys were putting their pants on. When they saw Thompson, our girls got very quiet, and I didn't blame them. Thompson was a mean son of a bitch.
“Well, well,” he said giving us the once over. “Aren't you boys a little young for this?” His girls looked as if they were scanning the competition.
“Danny with you?” I asked. I knew that would piss him off. Although Danny had had a gang it was more like Tom Sawyer's gang than a real one, sort of a play gang of choir boys. That didn't mean they couldn't hit, but you sure as hell wouldn't find Danny or his brother at the Wonderland. They were going to end up going straight. Thompson was like the bad boy of their gang, and sure someday to be dropped as a lost cause even if he was their best fighter.
Maybe it had already happened, because I really pushed his button. A storm I had seen before crossed his brow and I was about to let loose when the storm suddenly vanished in a corrugated smile. I was so surprised that I didn't even hit him. He would probably have dodged it anyway. I could see he was ready and he knew my moves. I most definitely would have gotten my ass kicked because Patrick would not have helped me against Thompson. It was an unwritten understanding we had with the Danny kids not to gang up on lone rangers. Of course Patrick would then beat the crap out of Thompson the minute I was out of the way.
“Bob, old buddy,” he said, “I see we're in the same business. Aren't you a little young for this?”He looked Marlene and Caroline up and down, appraising them. I really had no idea what he was talking about. Of course I know now, but in many ways I was still just a complete innocent, and as cool as my alter-ego, Mike was, he was almost as dumb as I. “You know competition is pretty keen in a small town like H__ . There's not really that much room here for every Tom, Dick, and Harry who wants to set up shop.” He took his girls by their necks and slowly marched them down the hall to the elevator. His girls were pretty drunk and sloppy,from how they wobbled on their heels.
“What was that about?” I said when the elevator closed.
“He's a pimp, you idiot,” Marlene said, leaning into me for protection. “Last week...I don't want to think about it.” I guess I knew what a pimp was, sort of. I'd heard the word around the neighborhood. There was a dude everybody called “Casey” who was said to be a pimp. People said he hung out at the Algonquin, a hotel downtown that was either a moldy flea bag or ripe with old world charm, depending on your point of view. But the lobby, where Casey supposedly hung out was still classy with a lot of marble, dark wood, and brass. People talked about Casey with mingled disgust and admiration, but nobody had really said what Casey did. I hadn't had enough interest to find out.
“He sells girls,” Marlene choked out. “Patricia Davis, who used to live on our floor turned up in his stable. I think he beat her up, but she was fucking up anyway, probably because her parents split.” In the next couple of minutes Patrick and I took the course in human trafficking for the compleat idiot. “And he thinks you guys are trying to horn in on his business.”
“I don't think I want to do that,” Patrick said.
“You mean sell girls for money?”
“Or rent them, like Johnny is doing.”
“I couldn't see it,” said Patrick.
“I couldn't see it, either” I added. “But maybe we're just fucked up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, why can't we do it?”
“I don't know. I just can't.”
“How much do you think we could get for them? Theoretically speaking.”
“These girls? Shit I don't know. A lot.”
“What do you think, Marlene?”
“I don't know,” she said in a very tiny voice. “I want to stay with you.”
“You know my fucking father is a salesman,” Patrick said. “It's the shits. I mean he doesn't sell girls. It's cinder blocks and stuff, but it sucks. Whenever I'm in the store and he's trying to sell something I want to puke.”
“How the fuck should I know why. Do I need a God damned reason to puke?”
“ I guess not.”
We left it at that and got in the elevator. Caroline's car was in Shay's lot and we all got in, Patrick in the front with Caroline and me in back with Marlene. She tried to snuggle up but I didn't feel like it. I already knew that I didn't like girls hanging on me. I put her in the corner and she stayed there, her eyes glued to my face.
It looked like Patrick and I were leaving home rather abruptly. We had been talking about doing something for some time, but hadn't really come up with any plan. I mean what kind of plan could a couple of runaway kids come up with? We certainly couldn't get jobs, and anyway, we knew we couldn't keep them. We were both too hot headed. I had once had a boss for about a week. My dad had gotten me a job working in a shoe store. By the end of the week I had already clocked the manager, a pathetic little bird. I couldn't stand his smile. And no one in his right mind would give Patrick a job. What a joke that would be.
This whole night pushed things forward rapidly. When we got to Caroline's house I thought we were going to leave, but when we turned to go Caroline blocked the door.
“You can't go.” she said.
“John Thompson knows where I live. Didn't you see his face?”
“She's right,” Marlene chimed in. “He's going to come after us. I could see it in his eye.”
“Are you sure?” I added skeptically. I was getting a little tired of Marlene always coming up with a new excuse to suck my cock and I was frankly suspicious. I looked over at Patrick who just shrugged. Caroline had a two bedroom apartment but there was a roommate in the other one. When Caroline told her the story she agreed to go and sleep at Marlene's place for the night to let Marlene and me sleep in her bed. The girls worked all this out among themselves with about ten times as much talk as necessary. I walked Francine down to her car and she took off.
By the time I got back to the apartment the girls had worked themselves into a lather. They were here, there, and everywhere. They wanted us to push the refrigerator in front of the door and were even talking about calling the police. Of course we wanted nothing to do with the cops, not even to say hello. Patrick didn't know what to do. He looked like he had suddenly remembered that he didn't know how to talk to girls. I shouldn't have left him alone with them. I took one look at the girls hopping around like scared mice and Patrick standing there clueless and I thought, “fuck, life has been a God damned roller coaster since we met these girls. The waterworks, the giggles, blah, blah, blah, and now this. Chickens with their heads cut off. Is it fucking worth it?”
I slapped them both a couple of times to calm them down. I thought Patrick might get pissed off that I touched Caroline, but he understood what I was doing and let it go. “Relax.” I said and then realized that this is probably the stupidest command ever. I was thinking that we should send both girls to bed just to keep them calm. I knew perfectly well that the slaps were not going to hold them for long, and the next time would have to be harder and the next one harder still. These girls were like drug addicts when they got going. Who knew it was going to be like that?
I felt all this barricading the door and shit was like a vote of no confidence. If Thompson came we would deal with him and that was that. We're not going to hide behind the refrigerator waiting for him to show up.
Sure enough, the slaps worked for only a few minutes, and the girls' fear started building up again. First it was just a couple of words Marlene whispered, but when they got away with that it wasn't long before the fucking dam broke. Yak, yak. Oh my God. It was my fault for not nipping it in the bud, but now it was too late. I had to get them away from each other. This whole scene was just not a healthy one if we were going to get a visit from Thompson. “Let's put them to bed,” I said. Patrick looked confused and I promised myself never to leave him alone with both girls again, at least not when he was in a dangerously good mood. Good cheer robbed him of what little brain he had.
I took Caroline by the arm and led her into Francine's room. I threw all the stuffed animals on the floor and looked in the closet. What looked like a fairly clean nightgown was hanging on a hook. I told Marlene to put it on, but she started playing helpless and I kicked her ass hard. I was in no mood for fun and games. When I got all her clothes off I went into the bathroom and got a cool wet washcloth. It was a hot night and I thought cooling her off might help. When I started washing her face she held it up like a little girl. She seemed to enjoy the attention. She was getting pretty tired from all the excitement herself. I went back and ran more cold water onto the cloth and continued washing her down. It did wonders. It wasn't long before she had completely forgotten about John Thompson and was rubbing her pussy on my leg. She even began to giggle and started licking my neck. I knew what this was all about and I wasn't about to have any more of it.
I swatted her a couple of times to move her towards the bed. She was fast enough but tried to take off the nightgown. I grabbed her shoulder to make her stop and she looked at me as if she didn't understand. She pointed down. She had jacked the nightgown up, and with her legs waving in the air, was offering her pussy for my use. The nightgown was above her waist.
But I had no time for this nonsense now. I was pretty sure Thompson was going to show and I didn't want him to find me with my cock in either Marlene's mouth or her pussy. That was no way to prepare for a fight. Anyway, this whole cock sucking thing had gone too far as it was. This girl was going to have to learn a little self control. I had thought the nightgown would make Marlene feel a little safer so that I could put her to bed and keep her out of my hair. I pulled it back down so it covered not only her twat and ass, but most of her legs. There was nothing sexy about it, which was good. It was just a comfortable cotton nightgown that Francine probably used when she had no company and just wanted to feel comfortable.
I could see Marlene was a little unhappy, but that quickly changed as she realized that I had to do what I was doing to prepare for Thompson. She jumped up, hung on my neck, and gave me a big hug. That was nice and I gave her a big hug back. It felt really great, but I had no time for feeling great. I lowered her down into the bed. Instinctively she opened her legs and lifted them into the air but I pushed them back down again and made her lie in the bed like a mummy. I even made her cross her arms over her tits and keep her head perfectly straight.
“Now don't you move,” I said. “You understand me. Don't you move a muscle.” She obeyed and lay there rigidly. It was a hot night so I covered her only with the lightest sheet. I opened a window and there was a cool breeze. Marlene was settled down. I went out into the living room. “Put her to bed,” I said to Patrick, nodding at Caroline.
“Get yourself into bed, honey,” Patrick said and in a flash Caroline was a mummy just like Marlene, but in her own bed. “Oh, we're gonna have a fight tonight, we're gonna have a fight,” Patrick sang merrily as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Every now and then he hauled off and punched a hole in the wall.
“You think Thompson will come here tonight?” I said.
“You think he might have a gun or a knife?”
“I don't think so. He doesn't want a reputation as a slimeball. Real bad for business. Will curdle the heart of every cunt on his string. This is a dirty fucking fight. So it has to be clean.”
“What the?” I was knocked off my feet. Where did this fount of wisdom come from? Fucking Jeff was back. The wise asshole. But how could he know more than Patrick? There was a whole lot more to this acting than I had ever thought.
But best not to think about it right now. “It surprises me that Thompson is a pimp.”
“Does it? I thought he was just the type.”
“But it's changed him. Don't you think?”
“Thompson's not sneaky.”
“You sure? Maybe a little shifty?”
“Shifty, shifty, something up his sleeve. Yeah maybe.
“Gotten clever. Counting his money. Figuring on how to get more.”
“Poor guy. Down the toilet and doesn't even know it.”
That gave us a good laugh and reminded us all over again what friends were all about. While we had been talking we had been making our way to the fridge where, lo and behold, there was a nice cold case. We opened a couple of beers and kicked back, waiting.
The thought of John Thompson coming to get me made my heart pound. Everything was razor sharp. Words were etched in stone. I clenched and unclenched my fists. I didn't think about anything. No plan, no nothing. Just go at it. I knew I probably didn't have much chance against him. We had never had much to do with each other before because my own war with the Danny kids had ended long ago. After that test of courage, I was something like an honorary member of the gang, a status only Danny understood. I never ran with them. Thompson was always a whole lot bigger than me, much too much bigger to pick on me. And I had never real had a run in with him. Even so there was something about this that made me feel it was a long time coming. Something about the way our eyes met whenever we were in the same place. Some unspoken enmity. I felt it and I knew he did.
Then there was the whole pimp thing. Selling and renting girls. Selling and renting fucking anything. Of course Casey did nothing, zip. Just sat there in the Algonquin counting his money. Disgusting. Still, I had to admit. Girls were a hell of a lot more trouble than they were worth. Always wanted to suck your cock or get you to stick it in their pussies. And you had to fight off everybody and his cousin, guys who can think of nothing better to do than stick their cocks into a girl. Guys who are ready to kill you and take her away. I could see the temptation to sell them. Get some value at least. Why not? It just rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn't put my finger on why.
“Bobby, oh Bobby.” That was his voice, trying to sound weird. I looked out the living room window and there he was, in a pool of light. He didn't look like he had any weapons. Patrick jumped up and we both headed for the door. When we came out he was standing on the grass. I could see he had changed his shoes from the pimp boats he had been wearing in the Wonderland. Had on looser clothes too. There was one mistake I had hoped he would make. But I hadn't really expected it. Thompson had had plenty of experience. He was alone, so Patrick stayed back. Even dirty out-and-out street fighting had rules outsiders could never know. Get a reputation as a slime ball and the next guy will knife you in the back. Life will be one long job of looking over your shoulder. It was dirty as hell yet not dirty.
“Bobby boy, Bobby. You know there's no way we're both going to stay in business. I tell you what. I'll buy you out. I'll give you a good price for those girls.”
Thompson was playing some game. He definitely had become a whole lot sneakier. He couldn't really think Patrick was working for me if he knew us at all. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe he didn't know us at all. Neither of us had never really talked to him. He had always been a kind of shadowy figure around Danny. There, not there, then there again. Rumor was he had been locked up in reform school for a time. But nobody thought that much about it. I walked up to him.
“Bobby. Let's make a deal.”
I swung at him and, to my amazement, connected. I had caught him by surprise. Unfortunately, my balance was not that great and I got him on the cheek. I got him with a better left and he went down. He rolled away and I chased him. A kick missed and he was up. Another right missed and then he came in with a left. Shit that was hard. Half my face was all numb and my head was ringing. But I got him with a right, probably my best punch and at least kept him away from me for a couple of seconds. I thought I could get in another one but I missed and a hammer blow came down. I was on the ground and I thought I was finished. I tried to roll away but my head was fuzzy. I expected to start feeling kicks. One came and then no more. I waited and waited, but nothing.
Everything seemed far away, like a dream. Suddenly I noticed some movement just beyond the circle of light. It looked like, but it couldn't be. It looked like Fuh, an even more shadowy member of the Danny kids than Thompson. In fact we never really thought of him as part of the gang at all. He was a wannabe that Danny didn't want, but who still hung around wanning to be.
Fuh. He was a kind of joke. We used to call him “Fuh, Who? Fuh,” because no one could believe his ears when you told him his name. Fuh was probably not his real name but how anybody could end up being called that nobody could guess. And nobody particularly wanted to know. He was a slinky, sly little devil.
Had Thompson brought Fuh as backup? No, not possible. I attributed the idea to the state of my consciousness at the moment. I should have been trying to get up, but instead I was thinking, a sure sign of being seriously fucked up. But where were the punches? Where were the kicks? I was starting to feel a little lonely. I looked over to where I thought I had seen Fuh and there was nothing, just darkness. I turned to try to find Thompson, making a mental note to not get kicked in the teeth. But I couldn't find him. Unless that was him going down under a shot from Patrick. Yes, that was him. Looked like Patrick got in a good one. Thompson was scrabbling back, trying to get out of range. Patrick was on him again with a hell of a kick. Thompson rolled away and then...and then...I must have been out. I must be dreaming. I couldn't be seeing what I seemed to be seeing. Patrick was letting him get away. Patrick was letting him get away!
The next thing I knew I was in bed and Marlene was washing what was left of my face with a cool wet towel. My nose was broken again, but I hadn't lost any teeth even though I had taken one in the mouth. My right eye was closed and I was pretty sure I had a broken rib. Patrick and Caroline were standing over me.
“You are fucked up,” Patrick said when he saw I could hear him. He was smiling and laughing. He was still excited and moving like a tiger, the way he always did when we got into a fight. He couldn't have been happier.
“How can you be laughing at a time like this,” Caroline said.
Patrick ignored her. He bent down to look closely at my wounds. “Fucked up,” he reaffirmed.
I struggled up on my elbows. It hurt. “You let him go,” I said.
“I know,” he said, suddenly furious. He punched a hole in the wall. “Had to.” Like a cloud his fury vanished and a smile came bck to his face. “You ought to see your fucking face, pal. What a mess! Your dreamboat days are over.” He laughed a great big laugh.
“Did you see Fuh?”
“Yeah, I saw him, or I think I did. Bastard disappeared into the shadows when I caught sight of him. Thompson wasn't alone. Not that Fuh could have done anything.”
I fell back on the bed and Patrick and Caroline, seeing that I wasn't going to be any more fun, left me alone with Marlene. I ached all over and didn't really want to move ever again. Marlene went into the bathroom to ge the towel wet again. When she came back and wiped my face I thought she couldn't give me any more pleasure than that.
“How does that feel?” she asked, poking her finger into the big bump on my cheek.
“Ow,” I said, surprised by the sudden pain.
“Does it hurt a lot?”
“Not that much. I'll be all right.”
“How about this?” She pressed her fingers against my swollen lip.
“Do you like hurting me?”
“Your cock is hard. I can feel it.”
“What of it?” It was true. My cock was hard. It was almost always hard after a fight, win or lose.
“Can I suck it?”
“Can I just kiss it?”
“All right, one kiss and then to bed. A good night kiss.” I hurt all over. Every move was a sudden sharp agony, but I had been here before. I would get better but right now I needed a good night's rest.
I just had one sheet over me and when Marlene peeled that back I could see a lot more of the damage. There was, of course the rib, which pretty much kept me from sitting up, and a painful charlie horse on my right thigh from a kick I didn't even remember getting. All and all not that bad. Could have been a lot worse even if it felt pretty bad at the moment.
And of course there was my cock, its tip up near my belly button, hard as could be. “Just one kiss,” I said, “ I need my beauty rest.”
She slowly lowered her head down, keeping her eyes on mine all the while. When she got to my cock she put her lips on the tip, then, with a sudden naughty expression, plunged it into her throat and sucked and sucked.
“Hey!” I said. I reached down and grabbed her hair. I would have thrown her off hard but the pain was excruciating. Maybe that was a lot more than a rib. “Ah, ah,” I groaned, and let her go. I fell back. When I looked up again I could see her face. My cock in her throat didn't hide her terror. Gradually naughtiness replaced it.
“I don't think it would be a good idea for you to move,” she said. Her ability to talk while cocksucking was sexy. I imagined this was why girls smoking was sexy. It was like a preview of their cocksucking.
“Marlene,” I said, trying to sound as threatening as I could. But it was useless. She knew now that I was helpless.
“What, darling?” she said and fluttered her lashes. She was really getting into it now. What's with these girls and cocksucking? Patrick and I had never really thought about any of this when we had been trying to figure out how to cross the canyon between us and them. But I was too tired and hurt to think and I let my head fall back on the pillow, and just allowed Marlene to suck my cock. Every now and then she would pop off and just say “Cock,” all happy, the way a young child will talk to her dolls. “Cock, cock cock,” she said bouncing her head back and forth and then plunging down to my balls till she gagged. She slowly rose back up catching my barely awake eye. She looked so naughty. All drooly she came off and whispered, “cock,” and gave the tip a kiss.
I was out of it. All I could feel was my cock in this wet soft thing. For once I just gave way and lost myself in the warm, soft, wetness. I let her tongue, lips and throat say “I love you” in the language of cocksucking, again, and again, and again, each time, it seemed, more heartfelt than the last. The tension I always lived with, and thought of as life itself, drained away. And she sucked hungrily, like a baby.
I hurt all over and felt great. I drifted to sleep for I don't know how long, but I woke to find that her pussy had replaced her mouth. Her head was on my chest and her arms around my neck. A little sigh escaped her that melted my heart. Still asleep, she nuzzled into my neck. I made her feel safe. Apparently we had been fucking in our sleep. After I had fallen asleep she must have slipped her pussy over my cock and settled down on my chest. I realized more deeply just how Thompson's play had frightened her. She had been on the edge of being sold as a whore. She probably should have been thanking Patrick more than me. I reminded myself to have another growth spurt.
It was only that my cock had reached that permanently hard painful stage that this was possible. Strangely, in some way I liked that feeling more than any other. Her pussy gave my cock a sleepy squeeze. She let out what I can only call a bourgeois cunt fart. I thrust up into her. I wanted her up! She only stirred and I rammed up into her again. It hurt, which made me mad, but it woke her up with a start. I slammed into her pussy again. “Stay up there,” I ordered, and she got off my chest but kept her pussy half way up my cock. It hurt like hell but I came at that pussy from every angle. She learned to pussy my cock no matter which way it came at her. From top, bottom, side, no matter where I came from at the end of every thrust, there was that pussy, wrapped around my cock, sucking away, and proud of herself. But when I went faster and harder, she just kneeled there, arching up her ass, and took it. My cock just took her over. She was nothing but wet docility. She moaned and whimpered like it was the last fuck she would ever have, which for all anyone knew, it was. I must have been doing myself some serious damage. I bent her to my will. When her pussy was docile as only a good pussy can be, and she was whimpering pitifully, I came.
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