Disclaimer: The author of this story is over 18 years of age and all who read must be, at least, 18 years plus as well.
This story includes consensual homosexual acts and to continue reading is of your own independence.
This story also contain sensitive matters that may seem offensive in language and in portrayal. If this narrative is seemingly a reflection and/or offensive, it is a coincidence and not in any way intended to offend.
Situations should not be repeated and is meant for the purpose of entertainment only. It is important to avoid drug use, and the consumption of alcohol should be done in moderation.
Though the use of condoms is spared, the prevention and the spread of STD's should be considered when having sex.
This erotic story contains graphic details based on actual events that were experienced by the narrator. Characters, events, and specific locations have been either altered, changed, or a composition of fiction in order to protect the identities of those expressed. The expressions of these characters should be taken seriously and any explicit language, racial typecasts, and inappropriate behavior is that of the character and does not represent the author.
Author's note: Please read this with an open-mind. The sex in this story, in some cases, is extremely risky....so, don't try this in public or with certain people. I want to hear any feedback. I am an aspiring writer and I need as much criticism as possible. I'll try to answer any questions you may have and will reply as soon as possible. Thank You and Enjoy!
ON DEAF EARS Parts 1 & 2
1
A cold, rainy afternoon in March was the perfect atmosphere to sit out on the front porch with a few 40 ounces, a pack of menthol's, the radio playing, while the man of your dreams sits playing cards with you, contemplating getting one last orgasm in before going down the street to his baby-mamma's house. Absolutely no one walking on the street cock gazing to see him pull out his thick, uncut, dark-brown masterpiece from the waist band of his sweatpants. It was the very mood of the evening and the combination of the beer that would give you the attitude and confidence to lower your head into his lap and wrap your lips around his dark-brown, satin wood, re-tasting the sex the two of you had only a half-an-hour before.
Yet, this cold, rainy afternoon in March was being spent on an empty public Metro bus heading downtown to the homeless shelter where 27 year old Cornell spent so many nights sleeping away his regrets of ever moving to Houston, Texas. Everything that he owned was carefully stuffed into his old, Navy sea-bag and everything he didn't need was casually left at the trap-house he escaped, but was careful not to leave any trace of where he was going. He didn't want his sexy, dark-walnut colored, smooth talking lover to find and manipulate him back into that life-style of decadence, drugs, and danger he spent all of his life trying to avoid.
Normally it would have been extremely difficult to look out of the bus' windows to the twilight, but the lights on that side of the bus above Cornell were malfunctioning, so he sat in the cover of a murky shadow that was both comforting and befitting of the mood he was in. Any other day, that particular bus would have been bustling with pedestrians getting off work, going home from school, or just going about their lives, but there was an eerie ghost casting strange spells over the city and nothing felt right, only empty.
After what seemed like hours the bus finally made a stop to let on a passenger and that passenger looked like something more than just a normal human. He was a gigantic, meaty man with what seemed like a dirty suit case, two back packs, a camouflage rucksack, and a dufflebag all attached to him with bungee cords. He wore dusty, combat fatigues, old, black combat boots, and an ugly brown trench coat. Everything about him screamed the man was obviously homeless, but his belongings were a total contrast to the guy he looked like he could have been.
As the man lugged his bags into the empty area of the handicapped seating, the lights above him flickered on and illuminated the handsome, light-skinned giant and briefly shun over the wet, yellow skin of the his exposed chiseled, woolly torso. As he turned to look at the impatient bus driver, who was obviously not going to move until the traveler paid his fare, he took off his hat and revealed his smooth, salt and pepper hair. With one swift movement, he slicked his wet hair back and made his way up the bus and slowly, but surely, dropped each coin into the fare machine, careful not to pay no more or less than what he had to.
He turned around just as the bus driver pulled off, and quickly scanned the bus to find Cornell sitting in the shadows, watching expressionless and patient. The stranger balanced himself on the rails above his head and let his trench coat fly wide open, to reveal more of his wet, hairy, muscular body and his sagging camouflage trousers that began to fall just below his waist exposing a bristly bush of unruly pubic hair. He stood just like that for a second before sitting in the seats facing his luggage on the opposite side of the bus.
Cornell wasn't too sure what to make of the man, but like many of the men he had met in the city, knew something was wrong with him and wasn't in the mood to entertain him. On a good day, he would rely on his broad feature, killer smile, and radiant personality to make a knew friend, get to know them, and before long, have naked, sweaty `no-strings-attached' sex with his new acquaintance, no matter if they were gay or....not. That day, Cornell just looked out the window and watched the outside world pass by, but ever so often, catch a glimpse of the tall, sexy man in the reflection of the window, steal glances of him and smile to himself.
The dirty giant sat with his legs spread wide open and with his arms confidently stretched out over the backs of the seats on either side of him. He had a weeks worth of unshaven, facial hair the contrasted his beige skin tremendously. What was most notable was the scar the ran from his temple the just above his jawline, only an inch away from his ear, but even with that nasty scratch, the man was still gorgeous.
Cornell continued to pretend to look out the window at what was becoming even harder to visualize and for some reason knew the strange guy was going to try and communicate. It didn't take too long after that assumption for Cornell to see the reflection of the man in the window smiling at him and gently waving in his direction. It was ridiculously obvious the man was trying to get his attention, seeing how his small gestures were unsubtle and it made no sense for Cornell to pretend any longer.
"Hey", the man called out! Maybe it was just Cornell, but whenever the volume control in a man's voice seemed to be disconnected, he associated that with mental illness or a lifetime of rural, country rearing. Cornell nodded his head in the direction of the man in acknowledgment, but with an expression that most people understood as `end of conversation'.
"You headin' to the shelter", the man asked in an even louder voice than before, pulling out a metal flask from his coat pocket? Cornell could sense the invitation and imagined the older gentleman was going to the same place he was.
The area of town where the shelter was located was a working class neighborhood that peaked just above the poverty level and was notable for drugs, but the homeless population was confined to that generally, busy street and the demographic worked hard to keep it that way. Though Cornell was wearing his indigo, work jump-suit, his sea-bag and his race gave him away as someone who was not going home, but of someone who was traveling specifically.
Cornell nodded yes, considering joining the stranger for a few drinks of the content of his flask. The man unscrewed the top and took a long gulp of the flask and made the common, scouring face of a person drinking whiskey or something of that nature. The bus driver looked back as the large man did this and continued to drive, despite the `no drinking' law.
A moment later, the announcement sounded for their destination and Cornell rang the bell to be let out. The brawny man packed away his flask and stood up, catching his trousers before they revealed even more of the pale, naked skin that should have been covered with underwear. It was somewhat common the see homeless men going `commando' seeing how it was pointless to wear extra clothing that would eventually need to be washed.
Cornell exited the back of the bus as the giant stepped out from the front, slipping his ball cap back on his head. The Salvation Army was just on the other side of the street and he opted not to cross with the guy, but depart from the rainy bus stop separately. He didn't make it to the other side before the stranger spoke again.
"Youngsta' you got a square I could bum from you", he asked filling the gloaming air with his booming voice? Cornell pulled out his pack of cigarettes and gave one to the stranger before pulling one out for himself.
The man then pulled his flask out again and took another gulp of the content before holding it out for Cornell to partake in his drinking. Not caring at all what was in the flask, Cornell brought the flask up to his mouth and was rewarded with the warm, sweet taste of southern bourbon.
Cornell and the stranger sat their bags down and stood just outside the courtyard gate of the men's shelter passing the flask back and forth, drinking and smoking as they silently waited to go in and get a number for bed assignments. It was unusually empty, but many of the men that frequented the place got government assistance. It was a running joke that Cornell observed when he first visited. At the first of the month, the place is almost empty, but as the month comes to an end, the place slowly fills back up with the broke, depressed, and lonely.
Once inside, Cornell departed from his drinking buddy, checked his bag in, but decided not to eat what they called dinner. It was a requirement for all the men to wait outside the building before they could be called back in for the night, so they all found dry spots under the canopy of the courtyard and talked, rested, and smoked cigarettes until their numbers were called. It was that time Cornell hated the most.
Each story he overheard was more depressing than the last. For a lot of the men, homelessness was just another way of living. There was no expectation of a future other than living a life of mundane endeavors and the elected endeavors of a life without purpose. For others, the fortitude that drove them was inspirational despite the pitfalls of a prison record, getting clean, and no money.
Some of the most prodigious men Cornell had ever met came to that shelter, not as influential examples, but as the product of what society forgot. These men had doctorate degrees, worked in medicine, and even fought in wars, something Cornell never had to do, and what seemed like simple mistakes, cost them years of....regression. As simple as their lives were, he sat and couldn't help but wonder what his life would eventually amount to.
One man lost his entire family, career, and life to drugs. One day, he sat with Cornell under a bridge at a bus stop in a prestigious neighborhood where the man used to live. With no one to live for and no future to think of, he simply sat in the weather and ironically begged for money on the very street he once drove through in a luxury car.
Cornell used that opportunity to kill the time smoking, but slowly sneaked a decoy, mini cigar out of his pocket so that no one really could tell if he had some or not. It would have been a beg festival if he had pulled out an actual cigarette and to be broke, these guys were really picky about what they smoked. He would smoke his decoys while they were outside, but later that night he would pull out the real ones.
He checked that his phone had a multitude of missed calls, all from the same person. He couldn't deal with his so called friend. He needed to get away from his body, voice, and sex completely. All the things Cornell wanted in life were simple dreams that could be attained, but they were never going to manifest in the company of people that didn't want for anything, but to suck the life and cum out of him. As he sat with his back to the wall facing out onto the men in the courtyard, he relaxed in the fact that he knew no one there, but the bourbon had him extremely horny.
Little by little, numbers were called and the guys disappeared into the depths of the building. The second floor was the sleeping quarters packed with rows and columns of bunk beds. Just across the hall from that was a large communal shower area and restroom. When Cornell's name was called he made his way upstairs to his bunk and lied playing a solitary game of cards on his phone, secretly gazing around the room at the men he was surrounded by.
These men were not a one size fit all crowd. They were men of completely different shapes, colors, and sizes. Each of them could be placed in a category of their own, but Cornell was more interested in the category of zero modesty.
To a lot of these guys, the showers were the best feature of the shelter. Cornell could remember a time when he tried cleaning up in a gas station restroom. As awkward and frustrating as that was, it felt really good to get cleaned up, but the people waiting to use the toilet saw things differently.
As he lied on his mattress, fully clothed, others' pants dropped, cocks swung, and Cornell had the perfect vantage point into the showers. No one noticed him staring or seemed to care. Even his temporary bunk mate, who was in the bed above his, had no shame pulling off his towel and letting his gorgeous, flaccid cock swing inches from Cornell's face. One guy with a blatant erection, ignored ridicule and let it swing from side to side in all it's glory.
Cornell imagined that most of these guys were straight, but to let his mind marvel in between their ass cheeks to uncharted territory, caused a painful erection of his own. It seemed as though the men with the more defined muscle structures, fuller asses, and the more beautiful dicks weren't ashamed, but seemingly proud to bare it all in the company of men. Many of them bothered not to get fully dressed as they slowly made their ways to their assigned bunks to sleep.
Not long after, the lights went out and the only illumination was that of the bright hall where the night watch-master sat guard. Snores and farts filled the silent air and that was even lulled by the gentle humming of the air-conditioning, another perk of being at the shelter during the hot, summer nights.
Cornell only waited until the last of the late night chatter subsided before he would make his way to one of the stalls and take care of some much needed relief. Silently, he got out of his bunk and made his way to one of the darkest stalls from the single dim light of the showers.
Upon closing the door and pulling his coveralls down to his ankles, he realized he wasn't alone in the darkness. Cornell lowered his gaze below the separation into the adjacent stall just enough to see a pair of sneakers and pants at the guys ankles. He didn't really care if anyone was in their and, at that point, wasn't concerned if the guy heard him or not. He just wasn't going to sleep without getting his rocks off.
Cornell closed his eyes and thought about the battalion of men yards away from him sleeping. One in particular was a short, dark-skinned bodybuilder type with a butt that stretched out forever. Cornell licked the palm of his hand and slowly began stroking the head of his eight inch mushroom when he heard the same familiar, wet sounds coming from the stall next to his.
Cornell, never losing his rhythm, abruptly opened his eyes and looked down into the other stall as the dim light cascaded past the guys shoes. He bent down a little further to see his hairy legs, dusted with dark, hair legs methodically swaying back and forth to his own motion. For Cornell, it was a major turn on just to know the guy was in ecstasy and they weren't even touching, but he also wanted to see more.
Cornell bent down a little further and, to his surprise, saw the man's bright, blue eyes shining in the darkness. He wasn't sure how this was going to end up, but the guy continued to match Cornell's stroke as their eyes met. It wasn't going to take much for him to blow his load and when the man knelt down on the bathroom tile, he knew the guy wanted action as bad as he did.
The guy slithered his average-sized cock under the separation, glistening with precum and spit. Even in the dim lighting, it shun like a prized trophy. Cornell followed suit and took the man's tip in his mouth as the guy let out a soft, low, rumbling moan. He could taste the salt and knew the man wasn't far from cumming and didn't want to prolong the encounter, so Cornell work ferociously and quietly to get the man off.
The man grabbed the bottom of the stall's wall and pumped his hips to meet Cornell's strokes, letting his tongue stroke under the corona to add the added stimulation. It wasn't even a minute when the guy's thighs trembled in pain and began flowing hot, salty cum into Cornell's mouth. That had proved too much for Cornell and he too shot ropes of semen all over the tiled floor.
The man let his rapidly, softening cock stay in Cornell's mouth as his orgasm subsided, leaking the last of his juice on his tongue. When he pulled out, he stood up suddenly and pulled up his pants. Cornell sat back on the toilet seat as the guy left the stall.
Moments later, Cornell dressed and exited his stall and made his way to the wash bowl to wash his face. His entire body was vibrating as he struggle to hold his composure to bring the water to his mouth. Just as he was about to leave, the stranger from the bus walked in. He was wearing some green, bikini briefs and nothing else. As powerful as Cornell's libido was, he couldn't take anymore and from the look of the stranger's body and bulge, he would have buckled.
The stranger walked to the urinals and let out a solid stream before half turning his body, catching Cornell's eyes in the mirror, and holding up two fingers to his lips, signing for a cigarette. After the encounter Cornell just had, he needed a smoke. As he again nodded his head yes to the stranger he couldn't help but look down at his beautiful, bulky, uncut cock as he relieved himself. The stranger's thighs were like tall blocks of wood and his buttocks screamed for Cornell to lick them. It took Cornell a second to take his eyes off the man, but managed to do so just as he finished urinating.
For a long moment, the stranger looked at Cornell without saying a word. Cornell only imagined the man was waiting for the cigarette, but the visual of the magnificent creature in the mirror was breathtaking.
The man's body was riddled with years of physical, hard work and various scars that created the image of a Roman gladiator. Towering slightly over Cornell, his demeanor wasn't patronizing, but father-like, embracing, and blithe. In an instant, Cornell pictured him as someones father and lusted over the fact that somewhere in the world, a broken-hearted family waited longingly for him and dreamed of a non-existent, futile life with this man, but was separated by a conundrum no one could understand.
Cornell and the stranger both left the shower area just as staff entered, giving them a suspicious look. The stranger paid no attention to the horrid looking man as he walked past him to get dressed, but Cornell could only guess the roving employee was on the `NO SEX' alert watch, breaking up any encounters that may have happened.
"I'm Reggie", the stranger finally introduced shaking Cornell's hand under the canopy outside. Cornell was now in the position where he was meeting a new acquaintance, despite his efforts to avoid it. Cornell wanted so badly to find out all he could about the strapping, older gentleman, but at what cost?
"Cornell", he answered lighting a cigarette before opening a his pack up to Reggie.
"I got a cousin named Cornell", he admitted which Cornell knew meant, this was a guy's way of taking mental notes of remembering a person's name.
There were some questions Cornell wanted to ask to get to know Reggie even more, but it seemed a little too soon to open that passage into a person's life. They didn't really know if they would ever see each other again. It was a common practice that Cornell detested, but for no other reasons than to fill the air with pointless chatter, he entertained it. If he were going to get personal, the motives weren't going to be obvious, but it normally led up to the scenario of casual sex or a waste of breath.
"You got anymore of that bourbon", Cornell finally asked looking at Reggie's trench coat?
Reggie had dressed in the same fashion Cornell first encountered, but this time he knew his new friend was wearing underwear.
"You know yo liquor", Reggie assumed reaching into his inner pocket to retrieve his flask. Judging by the wait of the container when Cornell last held it, there was a substantial amount left.
"Damn, I needed that", Cornell admitted after taking a long, full mouthful of the sweet, fiery liquid. He took that moment and proximity of Reggie to admire his bare chest and nipples.
His pecs were full and had a deep crevice that led around Reggie's oval shaped muscular definition. His large areola deeply contrasted his light, yellow skin in the bright lights of the courtyard's canopy, casting a shadow that made his hard nipples push out into the cold, moist air. Briefly, Cornell pondered sticking his tongue out and gently stroking Reggie's hairy chest in wet, dog laps, but inappropriate was the least operative word for the outlandish fantasy seeing how they weren't the only two men outside smoking.
"I'm not really supposed to be here. Dem motha-fuckas at The Light House fucked up with my room assignment. They let in too many people, but the niggas that supposed to be leavin' still there `til in the mornin', Reggie admitted taking a large drink from his flask also.
"What's the Light House", Cornell asked in curiosity?
"It's one of dem half-way houses. They ain't like most of `em to where you gotta pay by the day. You pay for a week and you straight, but you gotta wait a month before you can go back", Reggie explained. It was as if Cornell had met Reggie for this purpose. Cornell wasn't sure if he could live in the shelter for how ever long it took to find an apartment and with a job, he had to be sane and stable to work at the warehouse.
"You could do a month to month lease...if you got the money. I just need a few days until I get my car and I'll live in that `til I get my checks rollin'", Reggie continued.
"Where they at", Cornell questioned?
"Kashmere off of Kelly. Head up there....Since work close", Reggie asked pressing the `Freeman Manufacturing' logo patch on Cornell's coveralls. His heavy finger pushed solidly into his chest causing him to stumble back a step. Secretly, Cornell wondered if that was a sly way Reggie was checking the firmness of his bulging uniform.
"Yeah, not too far from Jensen", Cornell admitted. Just then he realized his soon to be ex-lover knew the exact location where he worked.
"When you get ya money, slide on through there and see if they got beds available. They always got niggas comin' and goin', so you might luck up. It's better than bein' here with all these funky niggas".
Reggie finished his cigarette and left Cornell pondering his next move under the rain battered metal covering of the canopy. The sound was loud and consistent, but had a calming, rhythmic effect on his thoughts.
The questions were silently ringing out in his revelry and turmoil. He knew where the steamy stranger was going to live for a while and could try casting his sex net, even if Reggie may not have been interested. He had already seen his body and was captivated, mental illness or not, but the question still remained. What was he going to do about escaping the net about to be cast on him if his controlling, manipulative lover came his way?
2
Cameron, also known as Ziggy', was know for his off-putting demeanor having spent most of his life in jail or prison. As befitting an ex-con, he had the reputation of being a thug, but never called himself that. He considered himself a street business man who had a code of conduct that his associates' and customers' obeyed. He also had the reputation of being a model bisexual for his nonchalant attitude towards homosexuality and as he stood behind Romo in the doggy-style' position in the tool shed behind his house, he knew it wasn't no more than just a quick fuck.
Ziggy had been checking out Romo for a few months and new there was something about him that let him know he had a chance and as fate would have it, Romo slowly found his way to him. Ziggy knew his product was `top-shelf' and word on the street, Romo was out of cash and wouldn't have any money until later that week. This was the perfect opportunity for Ziggy to open up his pocket and make an 'arrangement'.
Romo hated the thought of having sex with a guy that wasn't his boyfriend, but needed to do something to `score' until he got payed. He didn't know anyone in that neighborhood, so if Ziggy opened his mouth about what they did, it would fall on deaf ears.
It was especially hot that day despite the cold rain that happened the night before. Ziggy and Romo were covered in sweat bending over a lawnmower as he drove his rock-hard meat in and out of Ziggy's tight, sweaty ass. Ziggy had never taken his eyes off of Romo's hot, wet body even despite the fact he really wanted to fuck his cute and sexy Latin ass up close and face-to-face.
Ziggy was close to cumming when he heard one of his `workers' come outside with two of his buddies, but Ziggy was not about to slowdown. With one last push, Ziggy unleashed a hot, steaming load deep into the XL Magnum he kept on such occasions.
"Yo, this what you call a `sweet', nigga", Ziggy heard one of the boys say referring to the marijuana his friend had rolled inside of a flavored cigar leaf?
Ziggy knew these young men had closeted homosexual inclinations, but not one of them ever came to terms with admitting it to anyone. It was a common occurrence in predominantly black cultures to deny this practice and protect that secret with violent ends. Ziggy was a rare exception and flaunted his sexuality, but was considered too hardcore to be challenged.
"But that ain't the issue. Fuck how it look. You ain't roll this bitch. This dat good shit. Dat 'dro', my ninig", another admitted as Ziggy pulled up his pants.
As an intimidation factor, Ziggy went shirtless most of the time, even in cold weather. He had a home gym and working out every single day was a ritual he donned from his stints of incarceration. Because of this, his sized remained abnormally immense and his image was never faulted.
Ziggy gathered himself quickly. Just as he was about to open the tool shed door, which was nothing more than an old, knob-less door from the vacant house next to his, Romo tripped over a toolbox causing a few of the heavy tools crashed to the concrete floor.
"Yo, what the fuck was that", one of the guys questioned grabbing his gun as they all stood up in surprise?
Ziggy knew these young boys better than anyone and they were ready to shoot first and ask questions later. Even though they were squeamish and extremely reckless, they were extremely loyal. Ziggy was tough on them at all times, but even his tight muscles couldn't stop bullets, which he found out on multiple occasions...
"Slim, I know you didn't let dem thievin' ass niggas in my house", Ziggy called out in his normal booming voice.
Ziggy burst through the door and stared the guys down as they sat back on the back porch, relaxing knowing it was only him.
"What the FUCK are you doing" Slim asked lighting up his blunt he finished rolling. Just then Romo stepped out behind Ziggy, covered in sweat, and the boys instantly knew what had happened.
"OH SHIT"!
"Damn, I didn't want to see all this shit today, nigga"!
"All yall....Shut the fuck up or get out of my motha fuckin' yard. Bitch ass niggas", Ziggy demanded as Romo left through the driveway. He knew he wasn't going to have sex with him again and Ziggy wasn't going to try. It was a one time only encounter and he figured that was how most dealers got caught in schemes of entrapment.
Ziggy looked down at Slim who took his eyes off him in disgust, not because he had just had sex with a man, but because the man wasn't Cornell. It hadn't been a day since he left and he already had another man in his grasps.
"Cornell ain't been back yet, huh", Slim asked still looking off into the yard?
"What the fuck you worried about it for? What, you fuckin him", Ziggy asked flexing his chest?
"Naw!....What you flexin for? I'm just askin", Slim stated passing the `blunt' to the boy left of him.
"Imma deal with all that. Don't worry `bout my shit", Ziggy offered looking down at Slim's crew, "And get these niggas out my yard".
The boys knew to move it around to the front of the yard and Ziggy wasn't in the mood. He had a feeling Cornell would get tired with all his infidelities, his baby-mammas, and his bravado. Cornell didn't have the best life and Ziggy wasn't doing much to help, but in a lot of ways Ziggy needed him. Cornell was grounded, gorgeous, trustworthy, smart, and freaky....all the things Ziggy saw in a best friend, but he knew Cornell wanted more so he kept him at a distance, which broke the bond they could have had....for good.
Fuck it!!!
"You're not going to need a consult, but I do need a copy of your homeless letter and a picture ID", the receptionist explained as Cornell sat down to fill out some paperwork. He was extremely relieved to be in an air-conditioned space in contrast to the muggy heat of the outside air.
Cornell had taken Reggie's advice and went to the Light House Temporary Housing Facility. It was a lot better than Cornell had expected and the place actually looked livable, compared to other dilapidated places. He didn't have any trouble getting there after work, seeing how it was just a bus ride away from his job.
Just as Cornell finished his paperwork, a tall, handsome stocky man walked in and passed Cornell in the seating area, giving him a sweet scent of aftershave that caused him to melt in his chair.
"You applying to stay here, bruh", the man asked in a friendly voice.
"Yeah! I'm Cornell", he introduced holding out his hand.
"Rob!....You look young. How old are you", Rob asked shaking Cornell's hand?
"I just turned 27 about a month ago", Cornell offered handing the receptionist the paperwork.
"Well, we gonna have an opportunity to sit down and chat for a minute while we get you processed in", Rob stated walking into a small office next to the front desk and it was a wonderful sight.
Rob's ass pushed against his khaki dress pants like his ass cheeks wanted to escape. Everything about the guy was inviting. The way he talked with his big, pink lips made Cornell blush and adjust his crotch....in front of the receptionist.
"ID and a copy of your homeless letter", she demanded looking at Cornell with knowing eyes of fatigue. She was an overweight cliché of a black woman, who had no time for her job, but had plenty of time to get her hair and nails done. The soft R&B playing on the radio behind her fit her casual atmosphere to perfection.
Cornell got another glimpse of Rob as the receptionist made copies. It must have been fate that Cornell looked in the office just in time to see Rob bend over to pick up a box from the floor. Dreams, hopes, and wishes flooded Cornell's mind as the receptionist put his credentials on the desk, bringing him back to reality.
"You can go in and see Mr. Burnett for your, um, ss-sesment'", she ordered putting his file in a file holder on his office door.
"Assessment", Cornell wondered into confusion? There had been plenty of times when he walked into a place and almost did some odd job, or some sort, that was beyond human standard.
"We need to know some things about you so that we can better assist you while living here, so that when you leave you'll have stable housing and a stable way of life. Meaning, if you need to get clean....we'll get you clean, but you gotta put in the work", she explained and pointed towards the office door.
Cornell walked in as Robert Burnett had just sat down at his desk in his quaint, yet private, office. He had his college graduation pictures, diplomas, and various other certificates lining the wall behind him. A tall file cabinet stood just far enough to allow passage. Everything he needed to do his job was packed in neatly, but it was a tight fit. What was most noticeable was the color scheme of red and silver around his office and Rob caught him looking.
"Yeah, I'm a frat", Rob said in a cocky tone getting up from his chair, "Please, have a seat".
Rob closed the door and walked around to his seat opening Cornell's new file.
"I just fell on some hard times", Cornell admitted looking outside to the bright lights beaming in from a large window on the opposite side of the room.
"No problem", Rob said getting up from his desk and walking around to his file cabinets, "So, how long do you think it will take for you to get back to were you were"?
"Not long....I'm working. My job pays decent money. I just need to get out of a situation", Cornell explained as Rob sat on the edge of his desk in front of him.
Cornell had the perfect vantage point to see Mr. Burnett. His chest was huge and his arms stretched the long sleeved, light-blue dress shirt he was wearing. His clean cut, goatee matched his tan face perfect. His gold, wedding band wasn't that much of a turn-off, but the large, cock print bulging from the left thigh of his dress pant made up for that.
"Damn", Cornell spoke too bluntly licking his lips.
If Rob was testing him, Cornell happily failed. Just to see the circumcised dick head let him know, Rob didn't wear underwear.
"You alright", Rob asked in concern not realizing he was seconds away from being groped?
"Yeah...uh, Naw! It's just kinda hot outside", Cornell lied just before Rob got up, turned on the light, and closed the blinds. Rob brushed pass Cornell causing his rapidly growing erection to go from semi- to so damn hard; it hurt.
"Well, it seems like you have everything in order. You are in a better position than most of the dudes I see come through here. And these dudes are double our age", Rob admitted bending down to a file cabinet....again.
Cornell stuck out his tongue only inches away from Rob's large, robust ass. He was a married man, but animal instincts took over and for Cornell, his hormones were raging.
"We have a lot of programs and events here and you may not fit into a lot of categories, but getting to know the guys and participating in the outings does make the time go by a little quicker...or how ever long. Now, that's if you don't get caught up", Rob explained taking another seat.
"Caught up", Cornell wondered!
"Like many places like this, we have rules. Security is in full effect when it comes to these rules", Rob explained handing him the regulations, "Look over that".
"There is a curfew", Cornell stated in shock?
"Only for the first month. Good behavior isn't something you'd expect people to have, but like I said, these men are double our age and you'd be surprised how many of these guys get kick out of here for simple shit", Rob exposed.
Rob and Cornell chatted for a long time as if they were on a date. Every now and then Rob mentioned something sexual, but was too discrete. Cornell flirted back only to get a slight chuckle and Rob would quickly changed the subject.
"Well, lets get you settled in. I'm gonna take you over to staff and they gonna get you everything you need", Rob stated getting up from his chair. That time Cornell made it obvious he was looking a Rob's bulge that seemed to have grown tremendously since he last saw it. Rob didn't hide the fact that he, too, saw Cornell's humongous boner also.
"You might want to take care of that before we leave the office", Rob stated, slightly brushing Cornell's bulge with his hand, "Ms. Adams is a 39 year old, lonely woman with a hot pussy".
Cornell lied in his cot that night after dinner which was surprisingly good, for a half-way house. The RA (residential adviser) gave him his key and showed him all the basic common area's, Cornell took the opportunity to look around on his own and quickly figured out Rob was right. Most of the men there at the Light House were mostly homeless veterans with a lot of years under their belts and beer bellies over lapping it.
The outdoor style building was separated by floors, all surrounding a full courtyard. The first floor being the common areas; R.A.'s office, cafeteria, lounge, laundry, and admin. The second floor belonging to the temporary residents and the third and fourth for long term leasers.
Cornell's modest room was furnished with three cots and dressers, a full bathroom, and small cabinets for extra storage. Each bed also had a small desks that had a small dim lamp for lighting. There wasn't much to it but the window facing out to the urban street was a complete contrast to the vanity of the room.
Cornell briefly looked over at his sleeping, temporary roommate and quickly to the empty cot next on the other side of himself and pondered all kinds of different scenarios about how this would operate. The older guy in the room was straight to the point, but honest in his opinion, which Cornell respected, but wasn't the most gorgeous picture on the wall. On the other hand, there was absolutely no physical attraction between them, but as he stared at the other cot he couldn't help but wonder what the other guy would be like.
Cornell had been in situations to where men were scared of him simply because of his modest mind about his sexuality, which cause friction between them, but then there were the others'. The Others' weren't gay, but if they were in a specific situation Cornell was the perfect type to be situated with. Not that Cornell was a complete slut, he did have certain standards. Especially if he closed his eyes and couldn't see them.
Cornell looked out passed the empty cot to the streetlight outside and thought of his so called lover. He didn't get one phone call. Not that he was going to answer it, but he got the notion he finally broke free from a pretentious, savage, human being with no feeling. For that he was grateful, but he'd be damned if he said the sex wasn't amazing.
Cornell had just closed his eyes when the door opened casting a modest light into the room from the courtyard. He imagined it was the other roommate and didn't want to deal with anything that night. He simply closed his eyes as the man silently did what ever it was he was doing.
Moments later, Cornell heard the shower going and opened his eyes to see the bathroom light and in it was the silhouette of a naked butt in front of a shutting door. Right away, Cornell wished he hadn't opened his eyes after getting so turned on by the thought of his ex. Now he lied in his cot anticipating the visual delight of the man that went in, but hoped there was something about him that would make Cornell not want him....so much. If not, Cornell was going to find something wrong with him eventually and they would be nothing more than people that shared a room, but that didn't happen as planned.
No one other than Reggie made his way out of the bathroom and over to the window letting the street lights cascade over his body. He took his time drying his body and didn't notice Cornell patiently watching while methodically massaging his erection under the sheets. This was his moment to see Reggie completely naked again and now he could savor every curve, hair, and foreskin. Just as Cornell was about to cum under the covers, Reggie walked in between the cots and looked down as Cornell quickly closed his eyes.
"Damn, youngsta! You made it in. I'm glad you in this room", Reggie said to himself before climbing into the empty cot.
Cornell slowly opened his eyes to find Reggie naked and uncovered, facing him in his cot, with his thick cock hanging down his thigh. It took every ounce of dignity, respect, and everything holy for Cornell not to leap on top of him and devour his body, but then Reggie turned over. It wasn't a full second before Cornell heard him snoring.
"What the hell did he mean, `I'm glad you in this room", Cornell wondered to himself?
If anything Cornell was glad he was in that room more than he was. To see Reggie's naked body on a daily was going to be tough, with another roommate and all, but that wouldn't be a problem. Anything to get his mind off his past and the present needed some possibly unwanted attention.
Reggie was on his stomach facing the window with his powerful, muscular ass sticking up into the air. Cornell, quickly looked over to find the other roommate facing the opposite direction, sound asleep. It was the most awkward situation, but his grotty hormones were winning the battle over decency.
Cornell waited a few minutes before slowly sliding out of his cot and walking to the bathroom. With the door closed and in the darkness, he thought about taking care of things right then and there, but the live show was only feet away from him. He thought of the worst case scenario of one of the guys waking up pissed off, which in turned wakes up the other, who also gets pissed off. Then on the other hand, none of them wake up and Cornell does what a voyeur does best.
Cornell grabbed some tissue and got back into his cot, after making sure the both of the pair were still in dreamland. He gently slid his boxer-briefs completely off and sat them under his pillow. He then rolled over on his side and imagined kneeling in between Reggie's massive legs. With both hands, he'd spread his thick ass cheeks apart and Cornell would spit right where his cock was going to go.
Even after all that, Reggie wouldn't move a muscle as Cornell spat into his hand and massages his steel, 8 inch dick. He'd be careful not to rub it too hard before, gently, sliding just the mushroom tip in between Reggie's caramel mountains and finding his cave. Placing both of his hands on Reggie's broad shoulders, would slowly push inside his asshole, letting the heat and moisture suffocate his exploring phallus.
Cornell knew he wouldn't last after being deprived of ass for so long. Cornell would softly presses his hips into his sleeping victim, feeling himself get dizzy with rapture, lower himself on top of Reggie's tight, muscular back. With one forceful push inside of Reggie, Cornell would painfully ejaculate deep inside his prey. It'd be so powerful, Cornell would only see stars. With one final degrading thing left to do, Cornell would lick the back of the neck of his sleeping trophy.
And yet, just the thought alone proved to much for Cornell and caught him off guard. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and exploded all over the place. He spat ropes of semen onto the floor, making wet, splats as it his the linoleum. Cornell didn't have time to recover before he heard the other roommate stir in his cot.
Cornell grabbed his wool blanket and covered himself and pretended to sleep. There were no sound, but he kept his eyes closed to be sure. Doing this, feeling spent and satisfied, Cornell fell asleep assuring himself to wake up and clean the mess.
"Hey, youngsta! Wake yo ass up", Cornell heard a load voice call out.
When we opened his eyes he could see that it was morning and the light was beaming directly into his face. It was something Cornell never got used to, but he knew work was calling. Yet, in that moment someone else was calling.
"You ain't gonna want to miss breakfast and you missed the napkin", Reggie assured him standing at the foot of his cot fully clothed.
Cornell looked around the room and quickly noticed he was the only one left. He slept like a baby and wasn't wakened by anything or any sounds the other two may have made. He thought to himself about how much he must have needed that sleep, but looked down to find his blanket on the floor.
Reggie had already left when he mustered the strength to grab it and try to cover up. Cornell figured it was too late to be modest and it was obvious no one gave a cared about him being naked, but then he remembered the evidence he was supposed to get rid of.
He looked down on the other side of his cot and all of it was cleaned. Reggie must have heard Cornell last night or stepped in the evidence that morning. Above all that, Cornell knew Reggie knew and neither one of the two paid it any mind. The entire day was spent on thoughts of his naked sleeper.