Date: Mon, 8 Jul 2013 06:35:58 -0700 (PDT)
From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com>
Subject: DADDY'S PIMP 9

This is a fictional story that involves overt sexual activity between
males.  If you find such offensive or if you are below the age that where
you live the reading of such material is illegal, please read no further.

Please let me know what you think of the story.  Your reaction means a lot,
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Reach me at macoutmann@yahoo.com.

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Copyright 2013 by Macout Mann.  All rights reserved.



			       DADDY'S PIMP

			      by Macout Mann


				    IX

Kyle hadn't checked out the bus station before.  He'd heard that most of
the guys that hung out around there were hustling; and although Roger could
be generous to his boys, he didn't go for out and out prostitutes.

In the guise of seeking a playmate for his dad, however, Kyle thought he
might get into something interesting for himself.  He found a parking place
and strolled around the block that the bus station occupied.  And yes,
there were several guys that were obviously hustling, but near one corner
was a thin, chocolate colored dude of medium height with features more
Caucasian than African.  He was just leaning against the wall gazing at
passersby.  His shirt was unbuttoned and his hands were stuffed into
well-worn jeans.  As he passed, Kyle could see that the object of the young
man's gaze was the bulge in Kyle's tight shorts.

On his next pass Kyle smiled at his handsome quarry, and was pleased to see
that his smile was returned.

Completing his third trip around the block Kyle stopped and casually
confronted the young black, saying "Whew, sorta warm for this time of year,
aint it?"

"Yes, but they tell me that in a few weeks we'll all be complaining because
it's too cold," came the answer.  His voice was sort of high pitched, and
the accent and word choice was definitely not Carolinian.

"You just hanging out?" Kyle asked.

"Yes, trying to see what's going on here."

"Well, I can tell you're not from around here."

"No, I'm from Bermuda.  I've been visiting relatives in the states.  Came
down here from New York."

"Quite a difference, eh?" Kyle chuckled.

"Oh, there were a few lads--like some of these here--that were hanging
around the Port Authority Bus Terminal up in New York."

"You'll find them anywhere," Kyle retorted.  "That what you're doing?
Doesn't seem like it."

"Not overtly, anyway," the good looking black laughed.  "Not that I
wouldn't take money, if someone offered it to me."

"Well, I don't pay or get paid," Kyle said, "but I know a neat club where
we can get a drink, if you're game.

His companion looked skeptical.  "I'm only twenty," he said.  "They won't
let me in."

"This place will.  I'm just nineteen, and I'm a regular.  I can vouch for
you."

"My uncle says I need to be very careful down here.  People our color can
get in trouble much easier than boys like you can."

Kyle gave the guy a friendly pat on the ass.  "Don't worry about that, man.

"My name's Jimmy," he added, guiding his new friend toward his car.

"Glen," the black Adonis replied.  "Good to meet you."

On the short drive to Elmer's Tune, neither gave any further indication
that he was gay.  Kyle was thinking he might have misjudged, and when they
entered the club and it was apparent what sort of club it was, Glen didn't
react one way or another.  They found a secluded table, ordered, and began
to chat.

Kyle asked about life in Bermuda, and in turn recited some of the details
of Jimmy's concocted resume.  Finally Glen said, "Well, I guess the fact
that they'll serve you here without checking your ID isn't the only reason
you like this club."

"Yeah, I'm gay," Kyle replied.  "You too?"

"I think you knew that from the first time you passed me at the bus
station.  Back home, I have a friend.  I get together with him and his
father.  All the time.  Here it's more difficult."

"My father would love to get together with you.  We can arrange that later.
I'd love to check you out right now.  Want to go over to the park?"

They found Kyle's familiar trail deserted and feasted on each other's hard
rods.  Glen had the ample equipment his race is famous for, and he found
Kyle's dick more than adequate.

Kyle got Glen's phone number and email address and promised that next time
they could go to his place.  He promised to set something up in a day or
two, then dropped Glen at his uncle's house.  It was in the city's nicest
black neighborhood.


The following night, however, it was Dwight's turn to meet with Roger.  As
usual, Kyle was amazed at Dwight's devil-may-care attitude.  He had sucked
Kyle dry, and Kyle was lounging on a sofa watching Dwight bob up and down
on his dad's prong.  Roger was on his back, moaning with pleasure each time
Dwight's ass plopped down on his pubes.  The door to upstairs suddenly
opened and Kyle's mother entered carrying an email printout.  Her
appearance ruffled Dwight not at all.  Kyle even thought the boy might ask
her if she'd like to join the party, but Margaret spoke first.

"Sorry to disturb you all," she began, "but I just got word from Father
that Willie has died.  His funeral is going to be in San Francisco."

That news even caused Dwight to stop his gyrations.  Still he showed no
sign of embarrassment.  He just slipped over to a neutral spot on the
mattress and waited.  Roger did sit up with a questioning look.

"Father refuses to go," Margaret continued. "He says Willie is no longer
his son.  But he wants me to represent the family; and after all, Willie is
my brother, and we were once very close."

"And you want me to go too?" Roger asked.

"Suit yourself," she said.  "He was your first, you know."

"And I wouldn't be where I am now, if he hadn't fucked up," Roger added.
It was funny how things had worked out.  If Willie hadn't been arrested in
a gay encounter, he would be president of the foundation instead of Roger.
Clarence, Willie's lover, would have Ben's job as number two.  Hard to say
what Roger and Ben would be doing.  "But I don't feel any obligation,"
Roger concluded

He turned to Kyle.  "Would you like to go with your mother, son?"

"I've been out there once," Kyle responded.  "I'll go, if you want me to,
Mom.  To keep you company."

"Not necessary," she said.

Roger got up and said, "I'll arrange a flight for you."  He guided his wife
back upstairs, leaving the boys alone.

"Well, I guess I should take you home," Kyle said.

"Not yet, man, I still need some cream in my ass."

Dwight rolled onto his back and lifted his legs, holding them in place with
his arms.  Kyle didn't waste a second before he was on the mattress.  He
shoved his dick where Roger's had been, and began to slowly plunge it in
and out of Dwight's already well-lubed orifice.  Dwight had drained Kyle so
thoroughly earlier that Kyle knew he could last forever; and Dwight was
enthralled by Kyle's passionate thrusts, crying "Yes!" or "Fuck!" or "Pound
that ass!" as Kyle had his way with him.

Finally, Dwight yelled "Give me some cum, man!"  Kyle was beginning to get
sore, so he increased the pace of his humping, finally dumping a fresh load
into the other boys colon.

"Yeah.  Fill my ass!" Dwight moaned.


As he drove Dwight back home Kyle said, "Dude, I don't know how you can be
so laid back.  When my mom came in, you didn't miss a fucking beat.  If I'd
been you, I'd have shit all over myself!"

"Hell, man, me and Mom lived in an efficiency.  When I was real little, I
didn't know what Mom and her boyfriends were doing, but I figured it must
be normal.  When I got older, I just got excited watching what was going on
and pretending to be asleep.  The first time one of her boyfriends decided
to get with me, I think Momma was upset, but she was too drunk to object.
She just watched me give him head.  In time we just began to hang loose.
Whatever happened was o.k.  She still has dudes fuck her.  I bring home
guys and sometimes gals.  The gals usually get uptight about not having any
privacy and sometimes won't put out.  Most dudes don't give a shit.  I sure
as hell don't.

"You think I could fuck your mom?"

Kyle was beyond being shocked.  He'd never thought about that.  "Maybe," he
said, "I think she prefers gals, though."

"So what?  I like guys."

Suddenly, Dwight turned the tables on Kyle.  "I didn't see you get hung up
when your mom showed up, Jimmy," he said.  "She ever watched you have sex?"

"No," Kyle responded.  "I do know that she's seen a video of me with
another guy, though."

"Cool!  I'd like to see a video of me fucking or getting fucked."

Kyle didn't tell him there were cameras all over the den recording his
every encounter.