Strays
Chapter 4
Hanging out with my new friends, I discovered a confidence in myself I had never had before. While I had been a loner throughout middle school and high school (immediately after realizing I was gay) I now had a small group of friends who were also gay and not the least bit shy about it. It didn't take long to realize that most of the other homeless men and women didn't have a problem with it either, save a handful who only had the courage to say anything when they were drunk, only to be shut down by the others and told to take their drunk asses on. I had found my people, a safe place where I could be myself without any fear of judgement or hatred.
While I met up with the guys at Miss Winnie's and again at SAMM shelter in the evenings, we usually parted ways during the day, each with our own interests and agendas. Cowboy and Austin usually went to work on one day labor ticket or another, so I only saw them in the evening unless they didn't get picked up. I voiced my interest in going with them to get some pocket money for cigarettes and other little conveniences, but Austin went to the PikNik convenience store across the street from the shelter and bought a pack of cigarettes that he gave me along with a twenty-dollar bill.
"I don't understand," I told him, "I want to go to work." He just smiled and waved good bye to me, then headed off to the day labor office with Cowboy without saying a word.
Austin and I were hanging out constantly, even when he didn't get out on a job. He and Cowboy would meet up with "the girls" at Miss Winnie's and we'd spend the day together. I was reading about Wicca and serious considering adopting it as a religion, taking notes on what I learned on scraps of paper I found discarded in the trash can besides the copier machines. One day, after Austin treated me to tacos at PikNik (two for 99 cents, your choice of filling in homemade flour tortillas) I took him to the metaphysical bookstore I found one day while wandering the streets aimlessly, pretending to be a tourist. I wanted to go in, but didn't want to go along, so I took him with me the first chance I got. I just wanted to see what they sold and do some pricing.
The air was thick with the scent of a mysterious incense, drawing Austin to the wide array of incense sticks, cones and handmade powders. I browsed the book titles, leafed through a few that interested me, and checked out the blank books, knowing I would one day need to start a book of shadows to keep all the notes I was taking in. Austin followed me around as I looked at small cauldrons, ornate incense burners, crystals of every conceivable color, wooden pentacle discs and elaborate wands. He stopped at the register to pay for the incense sticks he decided he had to have while I waited outside and lit up a cigarette.
"Here," he said to me, handing me a bag that clearly held more than incense, "Keep my incense in your bag for me." It wasn't an unusual request. I was already carrying a change of clothes for him, along with his toiletries, so he wouldn't have to take it to the job sites he worked at. Opening the bag, I saw a small, leather-bound blank book in with his incense. "The book is for you. Consider it payment for toting my crap around."
I was so excited, I almost kissed him, but caught myself as I began to lean in. He laughed, possibly out of nervousness, then led me away. The rest of the day was spent in the park where he got stoned and I started writing my notes into my new Book of Shadows.
During my time of faithfully waiting for Teardrop's return, Trick told me I needed to get some cock and suggested a number of cruising spots, mostly public restrooms I visited regularly without the slightest clue they were in anyway spots to find horny, willing men to have sex with. I considered going, but always chickened out, especially after Austin began to act like we were a couple without acknowledging we were, much less any physical contact that might suggest the same. Still, I knew Teardrop wasn't coming back and needed someone- anyone- to take care of my needs. It didn't look like Austin was going to give it to me, and I really didn't expect him to. He told me he was straight, that he'd been a medic in the Army and was married once. Apparently, the marriage and the subsequent divorce was so bad that he decided he'd never again venture into another relationship, so I was pretty confident we were just friends and nothing more intimate than friendship would ever blossom from that. That didn't stop me from counting him off every night as he did his one hundred pushups and sit-ups, lusting over the lean musculature of his body.
One afternoon, when I was out on my own, I headed out to La Villita to pick up a sack lunch from the church's food assistance office as I had just about every day since Teardrop introduced me to the place, but decided to stop at the "tee room" to see if there was anything to what Trick was claiming. I was horny, plain and simple, and I didn't know anyone who was going to change that anytime time soon. And desperate times, call for desperate measures.
The small square of a room was empty of any people and the heavily tagged walls and the smell of old piss was the only sign of anyone having ever been there. Being unheated, I doubted anyone would intentionally choose to hookup there when there was a warmer bathroom across the hall from the little Mexican restaurant that was part of the old village turned tourist trap. I entered the middle of the three stalls, as Trick instructed and sat bare assed on the icy toilet seat, my dick already hard with the unlikely possibilities.
Not having a watch, I had no idea how long I sat there, softly stroking my hard-on with hopeful expectation. Every time I thought I'd waited long enough and felt stupid for being there in the first place, I'd talk myself into waiting a little longer. Well, my dick did, anyway. It had been more than a month since I had sex, aside from the occasional jerk off session in the shelter's bathroom late at night, and I was horny beyond the help of a simple jerk-off session.
Then, as I was once again deciding on whether or not to just leave, I heard a foot hit the aluminum threshold of the door and footsteps entering. Peering through a crack in the stall's doorway, I saw a young white guy with sandy brown hair step up to the urinal. He glanced in my direction as he unfastened his pants and I jerked back, hoping to not be caught spying on a guy who might just be there to relieve his bladder. After about a minute, I leaned forward quietly and took another peek, realizing that in the very least I'd be able to see his flaccid dick. Ever since my hormone fueled years in high school locker rooms, I've always had a fascination with limp dicks, especially the way the swung slightly as the guy in question walked. Up until that moment I had never watched another guy piss, and I was curious if this hot guy relieved himself in the same way I did.
He was still standing there, his hand on his hard cock, stroking it slowly. He looked in my direction and I knew that he wasn't there to just piss. Standing, I nervously pulled up my pants, fastened them and exited the stall after flushing the unused toilet. Opening the door, I looked at his face first. He was handsome with a thin moustache and a hungry, yet worried look in his eyes. I supposed he had as much on the line as I did. Leaning his torso back slightly to show off the hard six inches standing proudly over the gaping yawn of the urinal, I guessed that he was no longer concerned about my intentions.
Swallowing hard, I walked timidly toward him, feeling my heart beating so hard in my chest that I was sure he could hear it. He turned toward me, silently offering his cock to me. I touched it, stroked it a little, taking a moment to feel the intricacies of the dark-pink helmet head and the twisted veins along the shaft of the rock-hard flesh in my hand.
Lowering myself to my knees in front of him and I began working my mouth over the head, then took an inch or so at a time as I slicked it up with saliva. Thoroughly wet, I began sliding my lips down his hard flesh, taking the entire length into my mouth before sliding back up to the head to flick my tongue over the frenulum, then repeating the action over and over again, allowing his nearly inaudible moans to spur me on. I wasn't hoping for a boyfriend, but sucked this stranger's cock like I wanted him to fall in love with my mouth. It didn't take long before I received my reward, swallowing his manly nectar as quickly as it filled my mouth.
He never spoke a word, just tucked his cock back into his pants and walked out. I stood and considered my options, then re-entered the toilet stall and waited for the next guy. Stroking my now hypersensitive hard-on absentmindedly as I waited.
The next guy who entered only took a piss, washed his hands and left again, but I did get to see his limp dick as he urinated, completely unaware that he was being watched. It seemed forever before another man entered, and I soon realized why this restroom was a popular cruising spot. Practically no one used it.
The next guy was one of the illegal immigrants I recognized from the shelter. Like most of the people who stayed at the shelters and didn't often stay out and sleep in the streets, he was clean cut and well groomed, intentionally presenting himself as just another citizen and trying desperately to not be obvious about his homeless status. Homelessness wasn't just a fucked-up way to exist, but it also came with the stigma of being a washed out alcoholic, drug addict, or just plain lazy. It also made you an easy target for violence because you are seen as somehow less than human. For these reasons, the general public would be surprised at how difficult it was to spot most homeless people on sight.
He was handsome with a nice build and a soft wave to his hair, but I knew who he was, and I knew I'd see him again later as we waited to be processed into the shelter. Though interested, I hesitated, peering through the crack in the stall door to catch an eyeful of an impressive hard-on. However, he wasn't looking in my direction, nor was he trying to show me his dick. He was jacking off with the intent of just busting a nut and moving on.
I exited to stall, looking him in the eye. He looked back at me and smiled, probably with recognition and a little embarrassment. I smiled, holding eye contact a little longer than necessary, then glanced down at his dick, staring at it long enough to convey that I was interested. I knew we had a language barrier between us, so I had to rely on body language to convey my interest, and I was being as obvious as possible.
When I looked back up to his face, he released a breathy half-laugh, then seemed to consider it. Without words, he shook his cock playfully and I approached him. I reached for his dick, and he hesitated but pulled his hand away to allow me to touch, then fist it. I stroked it for him, jerking him off, watching his face, seeing his eyes give me the permission I needed.
Sinking slowly to my knees, keeping my eyes locked on his, I pulled back the foreskin and licked the bottom of his glans. He watched curious interest, yet seemed cautious. I took the head into my mouth and rolled it around on my tongue, drawing an audible inhalation. Pulling the foreskin back over to cover the head, I ran my tongue between it and the glans, round and round before clamping down on it with my lips and sucked it hard before allowing it to escape. He muttered something in Spanish I didn't understand, but sensed it was an utterance of approval. I gulped down his cock into my gaping mouth, stuffing it down my throat in one quick move. He placed a gentle hand on the back of my head and kept it there as I sucked his roughly nine inches with deliberately long, slow strokes, the foreskin pulling away from the head then covering it again as I slipped my lips up and down his shaft. Looking up at him, I saw his eyes were closed and wondered if he was imagining I was a woman sucking his dick. The thought made sucking him off that much hotter.
While I should have sucked him off quickly, I enjoyed sucking his big cock and took my time as I teasingly brought him closer and closer to orgasm with long, slow strokes. Unfortunately, my fun was interrupted, at least temporarily when another man entered and I quickly stood and unfastened my pants to pull my own hard cock out and stand in front of the urinal next to his. In turn, he hastily tucked his cock back into his pants and zipped up, walking to the sinks to wash his hands. I was sure it was over far too quickly.
The new guy was an older white guy, somewhere in his late thirties or early forties, blonde haired and dressed in a suit and tie, not the kind of guy I would have suspected was looking to get his dick sucked. When he pulled out a thick, semi-hard cock and began to discreetly stroke it to erection, his eyes glancing between my hard-on and the guy who seemed to be taking his time at washing his hands and drying them. I looked back at my Latin lover as he watched the two of us. It seemed we were at a sexual Mexican standoff.
I shifted from my urinal to the middle urinal, where the first guy had been standing to situate myself next to the suit, who didn't hesitate grabbing my dick. Having someone other than myself touch my dick was a weird feeling. Still, I lowered myself to pull his fat six inches or so into my mouth and started sucking. The Latino returned to the urinals and pulled out his dick also. The suit started stroking the long, brown dick until I turned my head and sucked it for a moment, then the suit's, and back again. I was in cock heaven.
No longer trying to draw it out, I spent a little more time sucking the long, brown, uncut cock, wanting to get him off before anyone else came in and disrupted the fun. Impatient with having to wait his turn, the suit moved in behind me, pulled my hips up so I was bent over to suck the Latino and pushed his fat cock into my ass slowly.
I winced, but made no sound as my hole stretched around his girth. He entered me slowly and waited until he was completely in before he began fucking me slowly. I had paused sucking my Latin lover's cock, but resumed when Suit began fucking me. My attention was constantly shifting between the pleasure of sucking a big dick and having my prostate worked over by a fat cock until Suit started to really fuck me hard and all I could do was hold on to the Latino's thighs and try to focus on giving him good head.
Suit grunted and slammed into me, his cock filling my ass with his load and I returned my focus on sucking dick. He pulled out as soon as he recovered, then left the two of us to finish up. Although it probably shouldn't have surprised me, it did when the Latino pulled his cock out of my mouth and took the suit's place, stuffing my ass with nine inches of incredibly horny cock.
He fucked me like an animal, slamming into me deep, moaning slightly and hissing in Spanish as he ravaged my hole with every thrust. I braced myself against the graffiti-stained tile wall as my body screamed with insatiable lust. Thrust after thrust sent me into higher peaks of pleasure until he rammed in deep and thrust slightly with every shot of cum.
"Thank you," he told me in a heavy accent after pulling his spent cock from my asshole. I only nodded and smiled, unable to speak. Weak-in-the-knees I waddled back to the stall with my pants still around my thighs and I once again sat on the toilet. I listened as both loads dribbled out of my ass into the water beneath, my well used hole not bothering to clench up to save them. I was just too spent to care anymore. Lazily playing with the precum covering the head of my own cock, wiping it up with my finger then licking it off.
I began stroking my cock, looking to bust my own nut in private. My body was on fire with lust, every pore of my body electric as I played with my hard nipples, my mind flashing to the memory of the three men, the taste of mine and the first guy's cum still on my togue, touching the sensitive anal ring and pushing my fingers into the still tight but pliable hole to fuck myself further. I was so enthralled with making love to myself that I almost didn't notice when someone entered.
Leaning forward again, I saw a guy at the far urinal. He was a brunette, a little on the pudgy side, and dressed in a dress shirt that was sloppily untucked above brown slacks. At first, I thought he was just there to take a piss, the angle on the far urinal wasn't as good as it was for the middle one, but then I caught a brief glimpse at his dick, fully erect and an incredibly thick ten or eleven inches long. Fuck jerking off- I wanted to play with that little monster!
I slipped out of the stall and walked up to the middle urinal, next to him. He looked at me and I realized he was also Latino, but I didn't recognize him from the shelter, which was not unusual since the majority of the population of San Antonio was Hispanic. I watched him stroke his mammoth cock while I stroked mine, too horny to be concerned with another guy seeing my dick.
"Suck it," he told me.
Without hesitation, I fell to my knees and started working huge piece of meat into my mouth. It wasn't easy, but I forced as much in as I possible could, remembering the monster cock I had when I first started servicing guys in the city. This one wasn't going to get away, and I gripped the base firmly so he couldn't pull it away and deprive me of his cum. I managed about four inches, unable to deep throat the substantial girth.
"Fuck me," I begged him, looking up at him.
"Do you have a condom?" he asked. I was ecstatic that he didn't tell me no, and disappointed that I didn't have a condom. I shook my head. "I don't have one on me. How about you meet me here about this same time tomorrow and I'll fuck you then?"
"Deal," I smiled.
He left and I returned to the stall, excited about my date. I resumed jerking off. My balls were slightly sore and aching for release. I had swallowed a load and was fucked by two guys with a huge cock lined up for the next day. I was so turned on that I started cumming all over my chest and stomach. The orgasm hit me so hard my toes curled and my body completely tensed up as a hard roll of climactic pleasure pushed through me and left me panting for breath. I remained there, spreading my cum all over my torso in a dazed state. So satiated, I remained there, sleepily resting against the hard metal pipe at the back of the toilet until it became uncomfortable and I returned to my senses, regaining a small sense of humility. It was official, I decided, I am a slut.
At the shelter that same night, I met up with the guys, feeling sexy and dirty at the same time with my torso still covered in dry cum. I saw the Latino, who smiled, but didn't do anything more. I remained equally discreet, hoping our little secret would become a repeat performance sometime in the future.
Austin and Cowboy joined us a while later. They were both filthy from work and looked tired. As Jackal consoled Cowboy with "Poor baby," and an impromptu back rub, Austin asked me to take a walk with him. I was really into the presumed straight guy (and I wasn't alone) but I was also more than convinced nothing would ever come of it because of his sexual orientation. I never made any advances on him or flirted with him the way the other single queens did, but we did talk quite a bit and spent as much time together as was possible. It was nice to have a friend who was a guy, something I had never really had before.
He led me out to the railroad tracks, then stepped in between two boxcars that were part of a small line of other cars that weren't attached to an engine. Here, he took out a joint and lit up, then offered me some. I turned it down because I had never been high before and was pretty sure I didn't want to be if I was staying at the shelter and its chaos.
"Okay, then" he said, parking the joint loosely between his lips, "How about this?"
I nearly fell over with shock when he unfastened his pants and pulled out his dick, cautiously looking around to be sure we couldn't be seen. It was limp, but nonetheless impressive. I touched it, stroking it softly, my mind exploding with the knowledge that I was touching a hot straight guy's dick. It grew in my hand as I stroked it, to its full seven inches. His hard-on was sort of cone shaped, thicker at the bottom and tapering to a smaller helmet head. He just smoked his joint like nothing else was going on.
"Can I suck it?" I asked him.
"It's not going to suck itself," he told me matter of fact, like it should have been somehow obvious he wanted me to suck him off but I was just too dense to realize what was happening.
I knelt before him and started sucking the average sized head as I fisted the thicker base, combing my fingers through his brown bush, playing with his ball sack. After a few minutes, I started forcing his length down my throat, then fucking my throat with the head while my jaw gaped around the thicker base. He just stood there, watching me do my thing while he smoked his joint. Once he was finished smoking, he gripped the back of my head and fucked my throat a couple of times, then pulled his cock out of my mouth and shoved it back into his pants.
"Let's get back," he told me as he fastened his pants after already walking away.
I followed him quietly, uncertain of how to process what just happened. Did he not like the blow job? He was still hard when he cut me off. Maybe realized he just couldn't bust a nut with a guy sucking his dick? Was he just experimenting with me to see if he was open to it? Was I just a test and he planned on pursuing someone else? Why didn't he cum? What the fuck was that all about? Was I not as good at sucking dick as I thought? Every other guy I sucked off came, sometimes faster that I liked.
I dared to not say anything, keeping the whole event to myself and acted like nothing happened. Austin's pot smoking left the scent of marijuana on our clothes, so everyone thought we were just off getting high and didn't ask any questions.
"What did you get up to today?" Trick asked, appearing bored of one of the illegals who was chatting him up in Spanish.
I told him about the guys I hooked up with, then gave him the details that led to my date with a huge cock the following day, giving the best dimensions of the guy's cock as I could. It really was all just guesswork, and to be honest, every cock that I was allowed to play with was a "big dick" in my opinion. I didn't even consider telling him about what I did (or failed to do) with Austin, especially not with him in earshot.
The shelter's security guards arrived soon after to hand out bed numbers. Austin and I ate dinner, was processed for a bed, showered and got a good night's sleep. In the morning, just before he left to try to get a day job, he told me he didn't want me to meet up with the big cock I had a date with. I spent the morning debating whether or not to meet up with the guy, then allowed the appointed time to come and go without another thought. I wanted the fantasy of getting that straight boy cum, and I was willing to do whatever I had to in order to get it.