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Off the Streets
By Mike Petersson
posted by Mike

I always knew that one day I would do it. It was just a question of the right man.

Like most people who live in big cities, I have long been fascinated — alternately repelled and drawn to, but always fascinated — by men who make their way on the streets.

Maybe it's because they are so different from what my proper WASP upbringing had me believe was normal and acceptable. Maybe it's their disregard for respectability that made me sometimes stop in the streets and talk to them. Sometimes I would try to convince them that there was a way off the streets – with belief in yourself, hard work, and other do-gooder platitudes. I suspected that my little lectures never changed anybody's life, but I continued to give them now and then, along with a dollar or two from my meager salary as a freelance writer and illustrator in New York.

Occasionally one of them would be a young man, and I would wonder what mysterious circumstances had led a man in his twenties, able and reasonably articulate, to end up on a street corner begging for change or wearing a sign saying WILL WORK FOR FOOD. Yes, but will you fuck for food? I remember thinking more than once as I passed a particularly handsome beggar.

And that's how it started. I began to imagine what it would be like to take one of them off the streets and show him that he had something to sell in this land where everything is legitimately for sale — food, clothing, shelter, health, beauty, culture — everything except the thing I needed most.

Then I met Eric.

I was in Chicago for a conference, walking north on State Street just past the Chicago Theater. Eric was sitting on the sidewalk at thecorner, near the river, a look of quiet desperation on his face, a look that was tempered by a pleading in his eyes that seemed to say, "Please, get me out of here."

He had a hand-scrawled sign that read: "WILL TAKE VERBAL ABUSE FOR CHANGE"

It was almost as if I’d been challenged. How badly do you want out? I thought to myself We'll see just how desperate you are.

It was very important to me that the man I chose be straight, and I was sure from the start that Eric was. There was a look about him, a certain simplicity in the way he wore his warm jacket and faded black jeans, a naiveté in his eyes when I spoke to him that was disarming, the way some solid heterosexual men can be.

"You know," I said very casually as I dropped a quarter into the paper cup at his feet, "There really are better ways to make a living than this."

"Oh, man," he answered softly, almost confidentially, "I sure wish I knew what they were and how to go about it."

"Well, look at it this way," I said, gazing directly into his beautiful blue eyes. "Everything in this country is for sale, isn't it?"

"You can say that again," he sighed, "but I'm out of buying power."

Buying power, I thought. He's really bright. And I knew he was the one. And I knew he didn't have a clue about what I was now sure I would suggest to him.

"What about selling power?" I said. Determined now, I found that the words came to me easily, from some deep but very plentiful well in my head.

"I've already sold everything I own," he replied, defeated. "Nothing's left."

Suddenly he stared intently at me with a tinge of utter hopelessness in his pleading eyes. "Why are you asking me all these questions? You want me to work for you?"

"Not exactly," I said. "It's just that I don't see why a handsome man like you should be begging on a street corner when, from what I can see, you've got plenty of good looks that a lot of people would be more than happy to pay for."

He looked slightly bewildered for a moment. I looked him in the eye. "What I'm saying — "

"Name's Eric," he cut me off, "and I think I know what you're saying."

"What I'm saying," I repeated, "is simple. Come to my hotel with me. If you don't mind another man looking at your body and, depending on the price, touching it here and there, we can do business. You can work for more than food. It's worth a lot to me. That's what I’m saying. There it is. Yes or no?"

He looked at me for a long 30 seconds, and I could almost see his brain tabulating what I'd said.

"Look, man, I ain't gay," he finally answered. "I mean, I got nothing against you, but if you're suggesting what I think it is you're suggesting, I don't think I want any part of it"

"What I'm suggesting, Eric," I said, interrupting him, "is that you come back to my hotel with me. I’ve got $50, a clean marble bathroom with a huge tub, and room service. It's all yours, and all you have to do is take off your clothes and let me give you a bath. It's as simple as that. Think of it as strictly business, supply and demand, and anything else you do is completely negotiable."

He recognized that I was serious. And now I knew that he was too, and he was beginning to trust that what I was telling him was the absolute truth.

"Just remember one thing," he said after a long silence. "We don't do nothin' I don't want to do. And I don't want to do nothing," he added with a smile.

I had him, and I couldn't help but smile back at his tricky double negative.

"It's surprising what people will do for money," I said, shooting him a stare.

"Not so surprising," Eric observed. "If you're hungry, you'll do a lot of things." And I agreed, hungry as I was to see this handsome, helpless young man clean and naked and alone with me. It didn't matter what else he would do – although I sensed that my choice was right, that Eric would eventually do what I wanted.

As we walked along Michigan Avenue and across the river toward my hotel, I glanced over at Eric, tall and slender, his long arms swinging at his sides, his big hands dangling at the ends of them. I was sure I’d made the right choice. He was a gentle soul – shy, defeated, and passive. I could see that he would let me have him.

He followed my instructions. I changed into a pair of sweatpants while he showered, his dirty clothes heaped in a corner of the bathroom. When I came into the room, he had drawn a tub of water and had settled into it, already clean and smiling, his brown hair wet and glistening, curls of it strung down his forehead. "I'm clean and ready for my bath," he joked.

I would guess that Eric was about 26, but just then he appeared childlike and vulnerable. I, on the other hand, seemed like a lecher – being some 15 years his senior – or maybe just an incestuous older brother.

"You can make more than 50 bucks, you know," I told him as I knelt beside the tub and reached for the soap. He looked apprehensive.

"After your bath," I assured him, "if I ask you to do other things with me, every time you say yes, I’ll add another ten bucks. Deal?" I glanced down into the water between his legs where his cock bobbed harmlessly like a champagne cork.

"I'll consider it," he finally answered.

"And no is no," I confirmed.

I soaped up his smooth, hairless chest and ran my hands across his dark, exquisitely shaped large nipples and into his armpits.

"Lift up," I said. And he obeyed, giving even more definition to his already well-defined pectorals. I ran my soapy hands up to his and held them for a moment so that we faced each other. He could not avoid my gaze. "You really look good," I said, bringing his hands down to his own chest and pressing them against the nipples. "Good enough to eat."

He shifted in the water, and I saw the full breadth of his flawless shoulders. "Let me do your back," I said. I soaped his back generously and rubbed every inch of it, bringing my arms around him now and then to tweak his nipples until I felt them harden between my fingertips.

He said nothing but merely let out a long sigh, then eased himself deeper into the water, throwing his head back and resting it on the lip of the tub. I lifted one of his hairy legs out of the water and soaped it abundantly, then ran my hands slowly up and down the length of it, settling my hands in the water up to his groin over and over again until at last his cock began to grow. I reached under it, cupped his balls, and then ran my fingers into his ass crack. He jolted slightly and looked at me as if to say, "Careful."

"Show me your ass," I whispered. He obeyed and got on his knees.

In that position I could get my fill of my favorite view of a man. I soaped up his back, his shoulders, his stomach, and at last his ass, astounded at the perfection of his round, fleshy buttocks. I rubbed them over and over, finishing each mound with a light slide down the crack, then a scoop beyond to hold his tight nut sac and watch his turgid member bounce with pleasure.

"Now, let me watch you shower off," I said, and we stood facing one another. I dropped my sweatpants and stepped into the tub. 'Ten dollars more," I said "OK?"

Eric nodded.

The shower washed away the lather to reveal his total nakedness. He was more beautiful than I could have hoped. I stared as he moved his head beneath the spray, his cock still hard, the water splattering on me.

I could resist no more. I dropped to my knees and dived into his glorious bush. "Ten dollars more," I gasped and kissed the tip of his dick. When I looked up into his face, I saw what I can only call curiosity.

His cock was of the long and slender sort, perfectly shaped and crowned with a flawless helmet. It stuck straight out from his body, the balls now flat against him in their crepe cocoon.

I ran my tongue up and down the length, slipped beneath to slather at his nuts, dipped my tongue below them ever so slightly, and then gently popped one globe into my mouth and then the other. His response was a thrill to watch, alternately surprised at what was happening and ecstatic over the way it felt.

At last I let my lips part slowly to admit the engorged head. I ran my tongue around and around as he emitted quiet groans above me. I increased my rhythm and gradually the depth to which I let him penetrate my throat. Finally I let him have it, the full depth of my hungry mouth. His shaft sank in to the root, and my nose was buried in his abundant hair. I grabbed his ass cheeks and held them hard. Then I released him and brought him back for another deep plunge to ecstasy, then another and another.

As he popped out for the last time, he threw his head all the way back. "Oh, God," he said, "you're gonna make me come!"

"Not yet," I whispered. "Why don't we go into the other room?"

"OK," he grunted.

I finished toweling him off, marveling at this perfect specimen of a man who only minutes ago had been begging on a street corner. I fancied myself another Henry Higgins, studying his smooth chest, the definition of each tit, the dark brown, exceptionally large aureole punctuated with two pointed nipples. I licked and sucked each one as Eric stood with his head thrown back, eyes closed with pleasure.

"Some things feel good no matter who does them to you," I said.

He looked down at me. "You're right about that," he answered and then added, "It's been a long time since anybody's been this good to me."

"Let me give you a massage," I offered.

"OK, but that’ll be $10 more," he said sheepishly, getting the hang of our arrangement.

"Deal," I said. "Lie down on the bed." As he headed toward the king-size hotel special, I followed him close enough to watch his ass cheeks do an incredibly sexy syncopated bounce and fast enough to throw back the covers for him.

"This is luxury, man," he said cautiously as he lay down, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his furry legs at the ankles, which forced his now-flaccid cock to flop sideways away from the big, bulging sac beneath it. Then he opened his legs, looking like a surrendering dog waiting to be rubbed. I felt my own dick stiffen at the sight of this work of art before me.

I pulled some lotion from the drawer and poured a few drops into my hands. "Let me rub your back," I said, and he rolled over to accommodate me, the breadth of his shoulders making me breathe heavily with gratitude for this gorgeous hunk in my bed.

"Don't try anything funny now," he cautioned, looking back at me over his shoulder and smiling as he sprawled on his stomach.

He's almost teasing, I thought, without even knowing it. I was ecstatic at that little grin.

"A deal's a deal," I said. "I just want to feel you all over and make you feel real good. That'll make me feel good."

He looked at me, somewhat perplexed. Then, as I kneaded the firm flesh of his magnificent back, he closed his eyes. "Feels good," he said.

I straddled him to get my hands firmly on the flesh, careful to keep my cock to myself. He didn't seem to mind. Up and down his back I kneaded; then I slid down past the mounds of his ass so I could plant my hands squarely on them. Gently and firmly I pushed and pulled, now and then spreading the cheeks apart just enough to glimpse the darkened skin leading to the place I longed to see but dared not approach too soon.

I worked his legs with all my strength, then his arms and neck, then down the back again. Returning to his glorious ass, I pulled the butt cheeks apart just enough to reveal the sphincter lodged between them. The tightness of the pleasure spot made me weak.

I motioned for him to roll over again. I massaged his tits and then moved down his smooth, tender belly, this time running my hands around his cock until it began to stir. Bringing my head down to meet it, I touched it lightly with my tongue while watching it grow turgid again. Then I nestled my face beneath it and licked and sucked Eric's balls until he moaned with pleasure. A tiny droplet oozed from the tip of his dick.

I took his penis in my hand and rubbed it gently. Then I went after his balls, and this time I allowed my tongue to slip lower with each lick toward that sweet hole I was longing to see.

Eric was moaning and holding his hands up as if it was all he could do to keep from grabbing his cock and beating it into submission. I pushed his legs upward to get my tongue ever closer to the tantalizing asshole just beneath its flick. Moving back up to his cock, I grabbed it with one hand and then dived back to the balls, sucking both into my mouth at once and then letting them pop out one at a time. Eric was lifting his hips in passion now, and I slid my tongue back into his crack, this time landing the tip of it squarely on his hole.

"Oh, man!" he called out, moaning.

I flicked my tongue around his asshole, slowly working at the tiny ribbed muscles of his sphincter.

Then I let go of him entirely. He looked at me in surprise.

"Now," I said, "fuck my face like it was the best hole you ever fucked." And before he could think about it, I had the muscles of my throat clutching the head of his bulging cock. I let him know he could do it as hard as he wanted. I put his hands in my hair, and he took the cue, grasping it and pulling my face down to him until I'd swallowed him entirely. Then he pulled out and arched his back for another thrust in up to the base.

"But not yet," I said suddenly, smiling and pulling away from him.

"Oh, man!" he gasped. "I don't know if I can hold off, even for another 10 bucks."

"How about 20?" I asked, backing away.

Eric pushed downward on his penis, but it didn't want to cooperate. Mine, standing at full staff, ached with the need for attention.

We were lying on our sides, my face now in his belly. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. I rolled over and put my back to him. As I slid upward I felt his stiff dick along my back and shuddered with pleasure. As I did so I said, "How about ten for every minute you can fuck me in the ass without cumming?"

"Jesus!" he said. "Are you serious? You know, I never fucked anybody in the ass before. Doesn't it hurt you?"

"No, Eric, it doesn't hurt me," I laughed. His tenderness was both touching and amusing.

I helped him lodge his boner between my horny buttocks and then reached between my legs and dabbed just enough lube there to get him started on my puckering hole.

"Stick it in now, nice and slow," I ordered. "Can you feel it open up for you?"

"Yeah," he marveled, "yeah!" He was more amazed than excited.

I felt the head of his dick pop past my muscle ring, and I let out a low sigh. "It's in!" Eric said, like a proud child. And then he started to pump, slowly at first and then faster and faster as my asshole gripped his cock like a vise. He rode me while I bucked like a bronco. He groaned and moaned, and when I knew he was close to popping, I threw him off and rolled over onto my back.

"Jesus, man!" Eric heaved a deep breath. "That feels so fucking good!"

"Now this way," I said and raised my own hairy legs into the air.

Eric didn't hesitate. He lodged himself between my welcoming thighs and jabbed his flaming dick back into my gaping hole with a deep grunt of pleasure.

"Take your time, Eric," I urged. "Pinch my tits for me a little bit. That would really feel good."

Eric opened his eyes and seemed to truly notice me beneath him for the first time. He looked me over up and down, from my eyes to the glistening tip of my bulging prick.

"You're in pretty good shape," he said. "For a guy your age." The devilishness in his eyes delighted me. He was born to tease. And his thoughts of me seemed to delay his need to come. He started to even out his rhythm, grinding his dick into my hungry ass as it pursed to greet each generous thrust.

"It really feels good, doesn't it?" he asked, more curious than shocked now.

"I guess you can see that it does," I replied. Then he reached down and rolled my nipples between his long, slender fingers. I moaned with joy.

After he made my nipples stand at attention, he grabbed my ankles and pressed my knees to his shoulders. He picked up his pace and drove deep into my ass over and over again while we slammed my cock between our bellies. Then he went back on his haunches and, still lodged in my butt, began to play with my cock.

"You know, I didn't ask you to do that," I pointed out between moans.

"It's on the house," he smiled, tenderly stroking my shaft and then swirling his palm around the crown in a technique he must have perfected on his own cock.

I tried not to let on how good it felt. Eric worked my penis carefully, gripping it like a foreign object, gazing at it and then — perhaps realizing how like his own it was — deftly beating it off until it seemed like he'd almost forgotten his own dick, jabbing deep into my crack. I squirmed on his lap, making sure his pole stayed put while I enjoyed the attention I was getting.

When I came it seemed to take Eric by surprise. I squirted a big wad that landed squarely on his Adam's apple and then two more that splattered between his tits. His expression was like that of a child. "Look what I did!" he seemed to be saying, smiling as he milked out the last of my desire.

I pulled myself off his semi-soft cock and wiped his chest with a towel. "You know how good that felt, don't you?" I said softly next to his ear, wiping away all signs of what had just happened.

"You know," he confided, lying back with one hand behind his head, "I haven't touched another guy like that since I was about 10 years old. The neighbor boy and I used to sneak into a closet once in a while and just feel around and check out what we had down there. It's funny — we never talked about it that I can remember; we always just knew when the other one wanted to do it. Then one day we stopped. I just didn't have any interest in doing that anymore. But it's not like most people think. It's not…" He paused, searching for words.

"It's not what?" I urged.

He blinked at me and then chuckled. "It's not bad!" he said with a sly grin. "I mean, it's not like I'm converted or anything. It's just that I can see how good it is," he added, slightly embarrassed.

"What did you like best?" I asked.

He looked blank for a moment and then realized that he had not come.

"I guess I liked the blow job best" he confessed. "Kind of boring taste, huh?"

"No, Eric, it's not boring. Come here," I instructed, sliding down on the bed to lie face-to-face with his resting penis.

Eric turned onto his side so his tantalizing tube swung before me, harmless but beginning to awaken now from its brief slumber. His nuts were swollen to bursting.

I positioned my head between his legs and began to suck, at first slowly, flicking my tongue around his head, and then more voraciously until his dick stood again at full staff, engorged and weeping to discharge.

I lifted Eric's leg to allow the deepest thrust I could get from him. He thrashed and pushed the head deep into my throat while I grabbed his ass and pulled. Then I made him pop out and took his balls in my mouth, slathering them, running my tongue beneath and down to his tight, puckering asshole.

"Oh, Jesus!" he yelled, gripping his own dick.

I snatched his cock back and went down on it a dozen times. Eric's ass swiveled and moved under my control until I knew he was about to shoot.

Trying to forestall the big moment, I started to work on his balls. He grabbed his dick again, and then I knew it would only be a matter of seconds.

I tongued his crack until it was oozing with saliva and then carefully, in time with his thrusts and the swell of his balls in my mouth, pried open his virgin hole and entered it with my fuck finger.

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Eric yelled. I glanced at his face, and he was obviously in heaven. "Oh, fuck!" he howled forcefully, and his hand started to beat his hard dick so quickly that it seemed to blur before my eyes.

I buried my finger in his smoldering ass while he shot a load past his own head and onto the pillow, where it puddled next to his ecstatic face.

I dislodged my finger slowly, carefully releasing the stranglehold his asshole had on me, in time with his movements as he rubbed his belly and moaned.

Later, after we had cleaned ourselves up, Eric gorged himself on a hotel meal – a T-bone steak and french fries – that was brought to my room.

I gave Eric $200 that day. I never saw him again, although I suspect his life has changed. I did my best.