Date: Sun, 26 Mar 2017 21:35:29 +0000 (UTC)
From: E F <kitsune_libra@yahoo.com>
Subject: On Deaf Ears

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.