Date: Tue, 5 Sep 2006 20:32:53 -0700
From: Michael Gleich <mgleich@earthlink.net>
Subject: Cronicles of a Cocksucker, entry four

Chronicles of a Cocksucker
Fourth Entry:  By Michael Gleich

	I'm not sure when it began, my falling in love with
Mr. Stearns. But when didn't really matter, because I was deeply in love
with him. It wasn't that he was just nice to me. He treated everyone he met
with respect and kindness. At the office, when he gave someone a project or
asked them to do something, they would do it gladly. If I was having a bad
day, he would stop at my desk and ask me how I was, listening to me. He'd
give a wink and a smile and say he would see what he could do, and then did
something to help, even if it was to just take me to lunch or come back
with some silly present. He did that with everyone, he genuinely cared for
people and they, in return, cared for him.
	I did especially and he knew this. One weekend he asked me to come
home with him to his apartment. I was so thrilled. We had wonderful sex,
lots of sex and then the next morning, on a Sunday-I made sure I woke early
for a very special surprise for him. First I watched him sleep, watched how
he drew in his breath and let it out. His eyes were closed so innocently
and that beautiful black curl of hair lay across his forehead while the
side of his face pressed against the pillow. I was so very in love with
him. I planned a breakfast that I remembered from one of my mother's
magazines. The title of the article was, 'Breakfast For Lovers.' When I
read it, I knew that someday I would make someone that breakfast and here
was my chance.
	When I heard him stir in bed I put on the music and came in holding
the breakfast tray wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms very low on my
hips with the draw string ready to pull. Earlier, I went through the
neighborhood, just at dawn's light, and scoured the nearby gardens for
flowers, filling containers and placing them in his bedroom. He looked up
at me holding the tray. Puccini was playing softly in the background and
the room was filled with garden scents. The light from the window cascaded
on the bed and made his body glow with warmth. He smiled at me as I came
over and placed the breakfast tray on his lap.
	He took my hand and patted the bed next to him for me to sit and I
did. "Mikie. What you want, I can never give to you," he then sealed his
words with a long lingering kiss on my forehead.
	I knew what he meant and though my heart was broken, he gave it
balm by letting me snuggle next to him and fed me forks of food in between
bites of his own.
	"I want you to find someone who deserves all the love you have to
give, Mikie. I only hope that the woman I'm looking for could be half as
caring as you."
	That was it. After that our relationship cooled. He said he loved
sex with me, but it was spoiling him. He didn't want to cheat with anyone
he loved and he needed to find a wife. He also said that my work at the
office was all and more he ever dreamed of finding, and though he
understood if I felt I needed to move on, that he would hate it if I did.
	I didn't. At least not then, I cried a lot though. At first in my
bedroom playing songs of unrequited love until I had no more tears left,
and even then managed to cry more. But the hallow feeling in my gut still
lingered on.
	Bill met someone later that year. She was beautiful, charming and
best of all; Mr. Stearns loved her. I could see that he did. All the ways I
wanted him to treat me is how he treated her. I was happy for him too,
because when you love someone, you want them to be happy. Even if it means
they love someone else.
	One day I could see that my boss had a concern. He had been talking
with his fiancé and her father on the phone all morning. Later, her
brother, a handsome man a bit older than me came to talk with him. After
their meeting, Bill asked me in, he knew whatever he said would never leave
the office and often confided in me about clients.
	"Brenda's brother was arrested by a vice officer at a public
restroom," he said in a very concerned tone.
	I knew the family was wealthy old money. Mr. Stearns came from
money himself and that's how he met his bride to be, some function at the
private club him and his family belonged to.
	"Can you get him off?" I asked.
	"I don't know, they have a pretty tight case, but I'll sure as hell
will try. His sister is counting on me Mikie." His look told me everything;
this was indeed extremely important to him. He opened the folder and looked
over the report.
	"Let's take a look at the arresting officer, maybe we can find
something."
	Mr. Stearns turned to his computer and typed in search for the
police department and the arresting officer. When the information came up
so did a picture of the officer on his police I.D. card. Officer
Christopher Blackwell.
	Bill was reading the file carefully, but something about the
picture seemed familiar. Those cold black eyes and that smirk he had. I had
seen him before, but where?
	"Can you print his photo? Make it as large as you can?" I asked.
	"Sure," Bill said and clicked on the picture.
	I walked to the printer and waited for it to come out. The larger
size of the photograph helped. I was studying the photo when it came to me
where I met this guy.
	"I might be able to help," I said.
	"How?"
	"This guy is gay. At least he tried to pick up on me twice before."
	Bill walked over to where I stood at the printer and took the photo
in his hand. "Are you sure?"
	"I turned him down, there was something cold and sick about him I
didn't care for. The way he put the offer and that smirk." I turned to the
window and stared out at the city below while thinking back to that
night. "He said, catch you later. I thought it a phrase, like-see you."
	"How do you know he wasn't trying to bust you?"
	"Oh, I knew. I turned him down, but someone I know didn't. Someone
who likes trade."
	"Trade?"
	"Rough sex. S and M. That kind of thing," I said.
	"The testimony of your friend won't help. They'll say he's lying
and it could end up making things worse."
	"Maybe not. What if you had undeniable proof?"
	Bill walked backed to his desk and sat down.  "Go on," he said.
	"He doesn't know who I am, and this may take a little time. I know
he doesn't frequent the area much. Probably afraid he'll be spotted, now
that I think of it." I walked over to Bill's desk. "Do you know someone
that can hook up a camera and hide it real well?"
	"I just might know someone like that?" Bill said grinning.
	"I'll need a hotel room for a few weeks. I don't know how long
before he comes around but I know he will. Can you get me a room at the
Ambassador on Forth?"
	"Suite?"
	I laughed knowing Bill would, without hesitation, rent whatever I
asked.  "No, he might think something was up if I was in a suite. Make it
one of their more common rooms the Ambassador is known for now. One that
rents by the hour." The old hotel had seen better days, and the prostitutes
that rented by the hour paid the bills, not their empty suites on the top
floors.
	Bill stood and put his arm around my shoulder, "Mikie. I don't want
to put you in jeopardy. It's not worth it."
	"Just make sure the guy setting up the video does a damn good job."
	Bill walked to the window and stood thinking before he turned back
to me. "You would do this for me?"
	I said, "No way. I'm doing this for your fiancé's brother. He's a
sister," and then winked.
	There was never anything mentioned after that, Bill smiled at
me. He knew my real feelings, though maybe he didn't know how deep was my
love. I would give my life for him if he asked. He just never did.
	"You be careful Mikie. It would kill me if anything bad happened to
you."
	"Duh-me too."

	Mom and dad weren't happy about my not telling them where I was
going for a few weeks. I said I needed to be alone a while to sort things
out.  I didn't want them to worry, and I didn't want any interference. This
was something I had to do alone. I knew what I needed for the
suitcase. Tight jeans that showed my ass off real well and sleazy T's went
in along with some jock straps. Bill kept a change of clothes for me at the
office. I didn't want to attract any attention wearing a suit coming out of
the Ambassador in the morning or one coming back.
	The room was awful. Depressing as all hell, with the Gideon Bible's
pages hallowed out for the last tenant's drug stash. The paint on the walls
was a sick yellow from chain-smoking hookers and the mattress smelled. I
was happy about the cameras, wherever I went in the room, including the
toilet, there was an eye on me, but damn if I could see one. I tested
turning the system on and off-no noise. And, made sure that it recorded as
promised. Now all I had to do was bait the trap.
	To say walking the streets is exciting would be a gross
exaggeration. Hookers earn every penny trying to look sexy when it's cold
and windy as they hoof up and down a cement walk in four-inch pumps. At
least I didn't have to wear pumps. But I thought at one point my tits would
freeze off wearing a tank top at eleven at night with a wind from the North
Pole.
	I had almost given up. The case was getting close to the court date
and if the vice cop didn't come soon, all the planning would be for
nothing. I think the bed at the hotel had fleas on top of everything
else. The rain had started earlier in the day, by the time I got to the
hotel and had a cup of coffee, waiting for night, the rain was coming down
so hard even the ugliest whores were staying in. I had made two passes
along the street and was just about to call it a night when a black pickup
turned the corner and came slowly by. I couldn't see in, the windows had a
heavy tint, but I knew it was him behind the wheel. He passed and then
hooked a U and came slowly back.
	The pickup pulled up next to me and the window rolled down. I could
see the glint of cold black eyes staring at me.
	"My-my, what do we have here?" his voice was deep and sinister
sending a chill up my spine.
	I stopped and looked at the open window, and then walked a little
closer to the pickup. He revved the engine.
	"Sure is cold out. A little action might warm things up a bit." I
said, smiling as best I could with the rain running down my face, my blond
hair stuck against my forehead.
	"I'm looking for a place to stick my dick. You know where?"
	"My ass is so fucking hot for cock, I'd do it for free."
	"Yeah, I can see that slut. You don't make much money do you cunt?"
	"Not when its hot stuff like you stud."
	He flipped a cigarette out the window right at my face, "You got a
place? Other than an alley?"
	"A room at the Ambassador. It has a bed and a toilet. What more do
you need?" I smiled as I wiped the soggy remains of his cigarette from my
face.
	"Yeah, but does it have a commode since you're the toilet," he
laughed at his little joke and then added, " Oh sorry honey. A commode is a
toilet in case you missed the third grade."
	"Wanna come over and use the toilet?"  He revved the engine again,
and then flicked his lighter. I could see his brutish face in the
flickering flame as he started another cigarette.
	"Normally I'd ask you to sit in the car while I drove there, but
you probably stink worse than a dead dog. I'll see you in the lobby. Don't
keep me waiting bitch."
	If I had gasoline with me, I would have thrown it in his car when
he lit up, and be done with it. Instead I began to walk fast, he peeled
some rubber, squealing the tires on the wet pavement and parked in front of
the hotel. I had to run to get there, afraid that after all this he would
leave.
	He stood there under the sagging canopy of the entrance laughing at
me. He was at least six feet four and looked about two hundred and twenty
pounds of solid weight. Fear gripped me for the first time, he could easily
hurt, even kill me without much effort. "Here boy, come and get your bone
like a good doggy." He then grabbed his crotch and squeezed it.
	I looked up at him towering over me. There was such pleasure in his
face humiliating me, and that sneer I remembered, a sneer of distain for
boys like me. "Please Sir, can I have the bone. I want to bury it in my
ass. Please?" I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and held my hands up like
paws in front of my chest.
	"Show me where your kennel is whore." He then reached behind me and
grabbed a cheek of my ass, squeezing so hard I could hardly move my leg
from the pain.
	I led him through the empty lobby to the back of the building and
up one flight of stairs to my room. I flicked on the light and touched the
button near it, just in time too because he grabbed me by the neck and
threw me to the floor.
	"Take off your clothes dog." He barked his order towering over me.
	I removed the wet shirt and soaked jeans, taking off my tennis
shoes and socks and knelt there wearing my jock strap. Getting up on all
fours, turning so my ass faced him, I begged, "Please fuck my hole. Fuck me
good Master. Please?" I wiggled my butt at him, putting my chest to the
floor so the cheeks of my ass spread and he could see my pink rosebud
winking at him.
	"Fuck you? Shit how many fucking dogs have fucked you today you
piece of shit. I wouldn't stick my finger in that slime hole of yours. You
probably have every God-damn disease known to man, and then some up that
shit-hole of yours," he kicked me hard in the ass and sent me sliding into
the wall.
	"You'll suck my cock bitch and if I feel any of your teeth, I'll
kick every last one of them out of your whore sucking mouth. Got that
bitch? Did you understand that, you fucking cum-slut? One scrape of your
teeth and I'll turn you into hamburger."
	"Please don't hurt me, your so much bigger then me. How could I
defend myself?" I begged him; only it was for real now.
	"Shit like you deserves what I'm going to do. You piece of fuck,"
he then grabbed me by the hair and rubbed my mouth over the growing mound
in his jeans. I became as compliant as possible, hoping it would abate his
aggression. It didn't.
	"Like that bitch? Like it whore?" he pulled my hair, forcing my
face to look up at him. His eyes were as black as his heart. I tried to
smile and say yes, but before I could get the word out he spit on my face.
	"Get back on that prick." He shoved me back on the hard mound in
his crotch. The zipper kept rubbing across my face, burning my skin with
every pass.  In a sudden move he kicked me in the groin where I knelt
between his legs. The force threw me across the room, sprawled out on the
floor grasping my balls. I looked at him standing there across from
me. That smirk on his face as he slowly un-zipped his fly and pulled out
his cock. It hung out over his hand. The head of his dick pulled out
halfway from its sheath, he shook the fucker with his hand up and down and
the cock raised and lowered like a snake sizing up the prey.
	"Crawl on your fucking stomach, Butt-wipe," he reached in and
pulled out his balls that now hung between his legs like pendulums. "Crawl
here and beg to suck my prick, you stinking shit." He put his hands on his
hips and made his cock wave side to side, the head hanging down below his
nut sack.
	I crawled on my stomach to his black leather boots and raised my
head up begging him, "Please let me suck your cock. Please, I beg you. Let
me lick your nuts. Worship you. Please?"
	"Lick my boots Ass-breath."
	I started licking his boots, hoping this was just a dream, a
horrible dream I would wake from any minute. Reality hit hard. He took his
other foot and stomped on my back forcing the air out of my lungs. "Please,
I can't breath." All his weight was on that boot pushing in my back.
	"Get use to it, I'll have my cock down your throat and you better
learn to breath or you'll be in fag heaven in no time."
	I now feared he may very well kill me. In a panic I thought of how
I could escape somehow. I looked over at the door, wondering if I could run
for it before he grabbed me.
	Realizing I would never make it in time, I thought my only defense
would be to get to his cock and suck it as if my life depended on it, which
at the moment it sure did. If I wore him out with my cock sucking, he might
leave before he did something terrible.
	He lifted his foot and I shot straight up taking his prick to the
root in one fucking gulp. I began massaging his dick by swallowing and
sucking. My throat pressed around his cock. I slimed it with mucus before
coming up and swirling my tongue under the head with quick licks and then,
before diving straight down, swallowing a few times and sucking hard before
coming up again.  Over and over I slammed into his pubes, cock-goo coming
out of my mouth, sliming his nuts. I massaged them with my fingers gently
grazing the sack.
	"Sweet Jesus, that's good." He fell back against wall and let me go
to town on his one-eyed monster.
	Picking up speed and rotating my mouth up and down. I sucked as I
rode up, swallowing as I went down. Faster each time, keeping focused on
getting right to the end of his fucking cock and holding it before
corkscrewing my way up.
	"Fuck bitch, suck me. Yeah you fuckin twat. Suck my dick." He
grabbed my ears and now was skull fucking me, pistoning my mouth on his
dick, and I kept right up. I matched him so he wouldn't rip my ears off and
drove on faster then he could.
	"Mother fuck. Shit mother fuck. God-damn." He began to quiver and I
kept right on, working that dick for everything it had when he shot down my
throat, in my mouth, all over my face. Jizz was flying everywhere. His cock
spewed out cum and his legs shook from his orgasm.
	"Oh fuck you're good. Shit-mother-fuck, you're fucking good."
	I nursed on it, licking, sucking, and taking long strokes from his
ball sack to the top of his prick. He grabbed me by the hair and picked me
up. My face had cum dripping off of it, spit and cock juice dripped from
the corners of my mouth. He spat on my face and threw me to the ground.
	"I'm going to let you live fucker. Only cause I'm coming back for
more tomorrow night. And you better be here, if you know what's good for
you." He then kicked me twice in the groin and left.
	When I could stand without bending from the pain in my nuts, I
locked the door and managed to walk to the bed and collapse. I felt bruised
everywhere, pain shot from my ribs where he kicked me. I could feel blood
drip from my lips, and my balls ached so bad I couldn't touch them. Then
the room went dark and I passed out.
	A siren went by when I woke. Cars were honking on the street. It
was hard to see from one eye that felt swollen where he slapped me. I
looked for the phone and at last found it, calling Bill at the office. The
cheap radio clock said it was three.
	Trying to sound normal in spite of my mouth feeling like it was
full of gravel I managed to say, "I got him. It's all on tape."
	"Mikie? Where are you?"
	"At the Ambassador. He said he's coming back tonight. I'm afraid."
I tried not to cry but the tears began to flow and I started to sob into
the phone.
	"I'm coming right now, Mikie. Hang on."
	"Please hurry."
	I heard the dial tone and put the receiver back, hoping I wouldn't
pass out again before Bill got there.
	Not long after, I heard his voice calling me from outside the door
and managed to get up and unfastened the deadbolt. He came bursting in
ready to fight if needed.
	"Oh, Bill I'm so glad to see you."
	"Mikie. God in heaven what did he do to you?"
	"Please get me out of here," I begged him.
	Bill picked me up in his arms and I laid my head against his chest,
feeling safe once more.
	"Oh, Mikie." Bill's eyes watered and he kissed my forehead,
brushing my hair out of the way, "I'll kill the fucking bastard for doing
this to you."
	"Get the tape. You can kill him with that."
	Bill took me out to his car and called on his cell phone for the
guy to come and remove the equipment and tape. He jumped in the driver's
side and moved me to lean on his shoulder, driving us to the hospital. He
never left my side through the night and into morning, when they released
me. Bill took me to his place where he and Brenda cared for me with loving
tenderness until I healed from the ordeal.

I'd like to know what you think about the story. It's always nice to hear
if it was enjoyed.

mgleich@earthlink.net