Date: Sun, 24 Feb 2002 06:47:22 -0700
From: Clone Buggs <cqsqfq@hotmail.com>
Subject: Across the Alley part 23

Across the Alley XXIII


	The Ticket Agent was surprised when Steve stepped up to his window
and ordered two tickets to Los Angeles, and paid cash on the barrel head.
We looked like a couple of ragamuffins.  Our clothes were dirty and out
bodies where filthy from all that had been going on the past two days, and
we smelled to high heaven.
	The train wasn't due to pull out of the station until eight that
night, and it was still early.  We talked about the need to clean up, and
maybe get some new clothes.  We ate a good breakfast in the same little
cafe in the depot, and the same waitress served us.  She was surprised that
instead of grilled cheese sandwiches, we ordered steaks and eggs and orange
juice and coffee.
	"You got the scratch to pay for that?"  She asked while she
wrinkled her nose up at the smell coming off our bodies.
	"Well, how much will all that cost?"  Steve pulled out his beaten
up old billfold, and pulled out a ten dollar bill.  Her eyes bugged out,
not so much at the ten he put on the table, but at the rest of the bills
she could see in the fold.
	"What'd you boys do; rob a bank?"
	"Hail no."  Steve looked at her for a moment while she stared at
him.  "We been peddlin' our asses."
	"What?"  the waitress' mouth dropped open, and I could see a was of
gum stuck in her teeth.
	"You heard me."  Steve folded his billfold and put it back in his
pocket.  "Now, would you go order our food?  We're hungry."  She turned
without speaking, and flounced away toward the kitchen.
	When she returned with our juice and coffee, she was in a better
mood.  She set the drinks down on the table, and asked if we wanted any
water.  We both nodded yes, and grabbed for the juice.  It tasted terrible
from what we were used to back home, but we drank it none-the-less.  She
came back with the water, and stood over us watching us drink.
	"You boys are strong," she said, wrinkling her nose.  "You ought to
get cleaned up some."
	"Ain't got a place to do it."  I said, setting my empty glass down
on the table.  "We're goin' to California tonight."
	"Where abouts?"  She looked over her shoulder, and I noticed a tag
on her lapel with her name; Sally.
	"Los Angeles," Steve said.  "Goin' ta get in the movies."
	"Oh yeah?"  What makes you think you got the stuff to get in the
movies?"  She threw her shoulders back, and brushed her shoulder length
auburn hair back with her hand, and tossed her head like a movie star.  I
thought she was beautiful.
	"Maybe we don't, but we're gonna try."
	"I want to go to Hollywood too.  That's really where they make all
the movies.  I think I can get into `em too.  I'm just working here `til I
have a nest egg to go."
	"You want to go with us?"
	"Today?"
	"Well, yeah."  Steve looked at me and made a spiral motion next to
his temple with his finger.  She cocked her head when a bell dinged.
	"That's your food."  She took off, and was soon back with our
steaks and eggs.  She set them down and then told me to scoot over a bit,
and set down next to me.
	"I got nearly eight hundred dollars saved up.  You think that's
enough?"  She leaned over the table looking at Steve in earnest.  She
looked about seventeen or eighteen, and was very pretty and fresh looking.
	"Ought to be." said Steve.  "Mebe we kin pool our funds and sort of
be like the Three Musketeers."
	"Yeah," she said.  "I saw that movie.  One for all and all for
one."
	"Jeeze," I said, and started poking my fork at a mound of white
glue looking stuff on my plate.  "What's this shit?"  She looked over her
shoulder at me and laughed.
	"Them's grits.  They're good for you."
	"They taste terrible."  I poked them again with my fork.
	"Put some sugar on'em hon."  She took the sugar dispenser, and
poured a heap over the pile of viscous stuff.  "Mix that in and try `em
again.  I did as instructed and put a small taste in my mouth.
	"Hey.  It's like cream of wheat a little."
	"Yeah that's right hon.  Eat `em up."
	Her boss yelled at her to get off her rear and clean some tables.
She glared over her shoulder at him, and sat where she was.  She took my
cup of coffee and took a sip, thinking.
	"Hey," I said, looking at the bright lipstick mark she left on the
cup.  "That's my coffee."
	"Hush.  You're too young to be drinkin' coffee anyway."  She was
staring at Steve, and he was staring at her while he chewed his mouthful of
meat.
	"You comin' or ain't you?"  he had swallowed and was cutting a
second mouthful when he asked her.
	"Yeah," she set my coffee down and pushed herself out of the booth.
"I'm comin'."  She untied her red and white checkered apron, and walked off
toward her boss.  She threw the apron over the counter at him, and told him
she quit.
	"What the hell?"  He grabbed the apron, and glared at her.  "You
cain't quit.  What the hael you think I'm gonna do for the lunch rush?"
	"I really don't give a shit Elmer.  You yelled at me for the last
time."  She went through the swinging doors into the back, leaving him
standing at the cash register, holding her apron with his mouth hanging
open.  A man sitting at the counter, eating a piece of pie and drinking
coffee, started to laugh.
	"What the hell you laughin' at ya moke?"  The man shut up
immediately, and cut himself another bite of pie.
	Sally reemerged from the back carrying her handbag.  She came back
to the booth where we were, and said she'd wait for us out in the depot.
"Go on and finish yer food."  She flounced out into the gloom of the big
vaulted room.
	We finished the meal, and left the ten on the table to pay for it
and trailed each other through the open door of the diner.  Sally was
sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette, trying to look sophisticated.  A
man standing a few feet away, was watching her, and playing with himself
with a hand in his pocket.  He started moving toward her just as we walked
up and stood in front of her.
	I watched him over my shoulder, he stopped to see what we were
doing, but continued to play with himself.  Steve sat down next to her, and
I turned to face the man, who seemed to notice me for the first time.  He
stared at me for a moment, then turned slightly away.  I walked over to
him, and looked up at him from the side.
	"I'll suck you for a dollar."  I grinned up at him.
	"What?"
	"In the toilet.  Only a dollar.  Come on with me."  I walked off
toward the toilet next to the news stand.  I looked over my shoulder, and
he was standing there watching me intently, chewing a wad of gum, and had a
nice visible hard-on in his pants.  I motioned to him to follow with my
head, and saw him take a tentative step in my direction.  He threw a look
over his shoulder at Sally and Steve, and then back at me.  He shook his
head, and started following me with a fast pace.
	I let him catch up to within a few feet and then led the way into
the toilet.  He pushed through the door right behind me, and I saw the old
black man was asleep on his stool.  I headed for the last stall with the
hole in the wall, and motioned with my hand for him to take the one next to
the last.  I pushed in the the last one, and locked the door behind me.  I
heard him enter the adjacent stall, and lock his door.  He sat down on the
stool, and I stuck a finger through the hole.  I whispered for him to give
me a dollar and stick his dick through.  There was a long pause, and a
dollar came through the hole.  I pocketed it and looked back at the hole to
see a beautiful cock complete with foreskin pushing stiffly through the
hole.  The damn thing was at least nine inches long, and as big around as
my wrist.
	I got down on my knees and grabbed it with both my hands.  He
jerked his hips and pulled it back a little.  Then he pushed forward, and
the thick purple head emerged from his sheath and I opened my mouth and
took it in as deep as I could.  I heard him groan, and felt him begin to
rock his hips while I sucked on his nob.  He was murmuring words I couldn't
quite hear, and I pulled off for a second to try to understand what he was
saying.
	He was whispering, and pulled his cock back through the hole and
bent down and whispered through the hole into my ear.  "Come over her boy
and let me fuck you in the ass.  I need to fuck something.  I ain't had
none in weeks."
	"I get ten bucks for a fuck Mister," I whispered back.  After a
moment, and ten dollar bill came through the hole.  I pocketed it and
unlocked my stall door.  I peeked out and saw that the old attendant was
still sleeping, and stepped out and tapped quietly on the guy's door.  He
unlocked it and I slipped in.  He locked the door over my head, and I saw
he'd dropped his pants all the way to his ankles, and was sitting back down
on the stool.  His big dick was rising up in his lap, and I saw he'd
unbuttoned his shirt, and his chest was covered with hair, heavy around his
nipples and across his chest between them, but lighter as it grew down
toward his cock.  He'd thrown his jacket over the stall wall, and his tie
over his shoulder to get it out of the way.
	He leaned back, and watched me strip while he jacked on his stiff
dick.  I slipped out of my pants, and pulled my tshirt off, and then turned
my back to him.  He lifted me up with his strong hands on my hips, and I
felt his cock head slip up my crack and stop over my hole.  I reached
through my legs, and grabbed his thickness, and rubbed the oozing head over
my hole.  He was gushing precum like piss, and he soon slipped into my
hole.  As soon as he entered me, he started humping slightly.  It didn't
take long before I was sliding down his cock to the bottom.  When he
bottomed out, he pulled me back into his chest hair, and rubbed my back
across his nips.  He stood up and pushed me down over the toilet stool, and
I braced myself with my hands on the rim.  He started to stroke my butt
deep and long, sending thrills through my frame.  This guy knew how to fuck
butt.
	I arched my back, and gave him total access to my hole, and then I
relaxed and let him take charge.  In almost no time, my dick got hard, and
without even touching it, I started shooting cum into the toilet bowl.  I
groaned and he grunted behind me, and I felt his cock flex and start
pulsing as he filled my hole with his cum.  He moaned loudly, and suddenly,
someone was pounding on the door of the stall.
	"Whas gone on in der?"  I recognized the old attendant's voice.
	"Shit!"  The man moaned as he finished pumping his load into me and
then pulled out.  He grabbed for his pants, and started cinching his belt
quickly.  His shirt was still open and he grabbed for his jacket over the
wall.  I was busy as well, trying to pull up my Levis while looking on the
dirty floor looking for my tshirt.  He turned around, and I saw my shirt
had been buckled into the back of his pants, and I grabbed it and pulled
hard.  He yelped, and looked over his shoulder with wild eyes at me.
	He slapped his hand over his rear pocket where his billfold was
lumped up.  He must have thought I was trying to grab it when I pulled my
shirt out of his pants.  The old attendant was now yelling for the police,
and the guy was pale with fear.  I heard the old man go out of the toilet
and the main door swing shut.  I grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the
stall, and pushed him into one several doors down closer to the door.
	"Calm down," I slammed the door and told him to lock it.  I stuffed
my shirt into my pants, and went to the sink and ran water, and washed my
hair and face with water.  I ran over and grabbed a towel off the stack of
clean ones, and was drying my hair with it when the attendant came back in
dragging a cop behind him.  He went down to the stall where we'd been
fucking, and saw it standing open.
	"they `us in dis one."  He slapped the stall door with his wrinkled
old hand.  The cop looked at me drying my hair, and I looked at him.
	"Boy," He hefted his utility belt with his stick and holstered gun,
and walked over to me.  "You see anybody come outa this stall?"
	"Yeah."
	"Who?"  I looked at the door out into the depot, and pointed at it.
	"Two guys.  They were old.  Looked about twenty or thirty years
old.  Why?"
	"Never mind."
	"Yo ought ta ast dis boy if he `us in deya fucking aroun'"
	"Shut up.  Ain' no reason ta embarrass this boy.  He said they run
out.  Musta run while you wus lookin' for me."
	The old man glared at me with red rimmed eyes and yellow whites.
He was angry enough to hit something.
	"You pay fo' dat towel boy?"
	"I put a dime in the basket," I dropped the damp towel in the sink,
and looked at my burr head in the mirror and sauntered out through the main
door behind the fat waddling cop.
	In the dim hall to the vaulted depot, the cop paused and grabbed me
by the shoulder.  I tried to get away, but he had me in an iron grip.  He
bent down and glared in my eyes.  "I better not see your little faggot ass
in that toilet again bud.  I'll run you in if I do."  He shook me violently
before he let me go.  "I was standin' right there," he pointed at the
corner of the news stand not ten feet away.  "Ain't not a soul come outa
that toilet ya little fuck."  He slapped at my head, and I ducked and ran.
	Steve and Sally were still sitting on the bench where I'd left
them.  I hadn't been gone more than ten minutes.  Steve had watched the
whole interaction between me and the man, and knew where I'd gone.  When I
came running up to them, he grinned at me, and I nodded and said, "Eleven."
	"Hot dowg.  You sompin' else Davy."  He slapped me on the back, and
we all started for the front entrance.  "Sally's gonin' wid us.  We're
goin'' to her place to get some of her things together, she want's to
take."
	On the way to Sally's room, we saw a storefront clothing store.  We
decided to go in and buy some new clothes.  I wanted some clean Levis, and
another tshirt.  Steve wanted a pair of wool slacks and a button shirt.  We
both bought some new shoes, because our old cowboy boots didn't seem so up
to date in Kansas City.  The bill, which included some underwear, and a
small suitcase, came to twenty-four dollars and change.  At Sally's, we
took turns using the shower in the hall, and dressed in our new clothes.
Sally took our filthy clothes down the street to a Chinese hand laundry,
and told them we'd pick them up later in the day.
	She took us to a rib joint she liked, and we stuffed ourselves on
Kansas City barbecue.  We wandered around the downtown area of the city,
and as the afternoon started to fade, we picked up out clean laundry and
went back to Sally's room and picked up our suitcases and got ready to go.
Sally bought her ticket when we got back to the depot, and we bought some
magazines and sat down on one of the long wooden benches in the waiting
area and relaxed while we waited for the train to be called.
	I was restless, and got up and wandered around the depot.  A train
arrived about seven thirty, and the depot filled with rushing people for a
while, but as they thinned out, the terminal's hum of noise dropped down in
level, and the porters in their white jackets slowed their pace as they
pushed their mostly empty two wheeled dollys out to the curbside to wait
for the next rush which would be our train.
	I decided to check out the toilet one last time.  When I pushed
through the door, there was a young black man sitting on the stool where
the old attendant sat.  He was blowing softly on a harmonica.  He followed
me with my eyes, as I walked to one of the sinks and washed my hands,
watching him in the reflection in the mirror.  He watched me wash up, and
stopped blowing his music to offer me a towel.  I took it, and then dug a
dime out of my pocket and gave it to him.  After drying, I dropped the
towel in the sink, and sauntered back to the last stall, and went in.  I
locked the door, and sat down on the stool.
	I wondered at the looks the young black had been giving me and
wondered if he would know what the last stall meant.  I'd never seen a
black man's dick before, and somewhere remembered that the boys at school
had joked that they were huge.  I sat there, quietly listening to him move
around.  He didn't start blowing his harmonica again, and finally he
started walking along the line of stalls toward where I was waiting.  I saw
him walk past the crack where the door met the jam, and he was looking
through the crack at me while I looked back.  It was clear from the lack of
sound that we were the only people in the toilet, and I knew he knew I was
interested.
	"Come in the next stall, and let me see your dick?"  I decided to
be bold.  He grunted but didn't say anything, nor did he move.  I groped
myself, and saw him do the same.  After a moment, he tapped on the stall
door lightly, and told me to come with him.  He walked back toward the
front of the room, and I unlocked and slipped out of the stall.  He was
pulling a ring of keys out of his back pocket, and starting to unlock a
door at the end of the line of sinks.  He opened the door, and motioned for
me to come inside with him.  The room beyond was dark, until he flipped a
switch on the wall, and a small watt bulb light the storage room lined with
shelves of clean towels wrapped in brown paper tied with string.  A large
pile of dirty towels occupied the center of the small room's floor space.
	I stepped past him, and once he closed the door, he flipped the
lock, and told me to be very quiet so men coming in wouldn't hear us.  He
took off his white jacket, and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.
I could see he was starting to throw a bone, and I was too.  He reached for
my tshirt, and pulled it over my head.  I dropped my arms, and started
playing with his thick cock through his black slacks.  He grinned at me and
leaned over my head and whispered that he wanted to fuck my ass.  I let go
of him and started to ask him for ten bucks, but thought better of it and
said if he wanted my hole he had to pay five dollars.  Surprisingly, he
pulled out a billfold and handed me the money.  I pocketed it and then
dropped my pants.  I pushed my new briefs down around my legs, and he fell
to his knees on the pile of dirty towels, and took hold of my cock.  He
stroked me for a bit, squeezing my nuts with his left hand, before slipping
my cock into his mouth and sucking me.  He was good, and I was soon fucking
his mouth hard and fast.  He pulled off, and turned me around.  He pushed
me down on the towels, and spread my cheeks.  His tongue went to work, and
he was soon slobbering enough spit into me to lube my hole for what I knew
was going to be a big dick.  He unzipped his slacks, and pulled his
thickness out.  I looked over my shoulder and saw the monster that was
going to be pushed into my hole.  It was as thick as a Coke bottle, and as
long as a king sized one.
  I moaned as he put the head at my hole, and pushed into me with one
shove.
  I gasped, making a noise like I was going to choke.  He pulled it out,
leaving only the head inside me.
	"Did I hurt you boy?"  I shook my head.  He pushed it back into my
hole, and then laid his body down on my back.  After he got comfortable, he
started stroking into me slow and easy.  I loved his soft fuck, but I knew
I didn't have a lot of time.  I told him to get busy because I was catching
a train in a few minutes.  He grunted, and picked up the speed of his
thrusts.
  I got into the pace, and pushed back at him twitching my ass muscle on
his big cock as he fucked me harder and harder.
	"Thass it boy you gonna get fucked hard by this nigger.  You like
that big black cock fuckin' yo little white hole?"
	"Oh yeah mister, fuck me hard.  I want to feel you shoot all that
cum in my hole."  He lifted himself up on his arms, and his powerful
muscles drove his cock into me like a freight train again and again.  He
was drooling on my back, and leaned down and bit me lightly on the
shoulder.  I groaned, and felt my nuts tighten up in their sack.  He was
porking my hole like a steam engine pumping up an incline, and soon enough,
I began to tremble with his thrusts across my prostate gland, and began to
blow my wad on the dirty towels.  He grunted when my sphincter clamped down
n him, and he started to unload into me.  He grunted in my ear every time
he shot, and then he'd pull back and drive into me again and grunt another
shot into me.  He shot ten times by count and I felt a slosh with his cum.
He finished, and started to lose his hard.  He slipped out and told me to
squat like I was going the take a shit.  He cupped a palm under my hole and
told me to push it out.
	I strained for a moment, and felt the flood of his cum pouring out
of me into his hand.  He cupped the slime in his palm, and held the rank
smelling stuff up to my face, and told me to lick it off his hand.  For
some reason, I wasn't repulsed by his suggestion, and stuck out my tongue
and started to lap the fluid up.  When I'd taken it all in, I licked the
residue from between his fingers, and cleaned his dark hand up with my
tongue.  He wiped his hand on a dirty towel, and used the same one to wipe
my own cum off my chest.  He finally stood and put his now flaccid cock
away and zipped his slacks closed.
	"Tanks little man."  He rubbed his big hand through my burr head,
and stooped down and handed me my tshirt.  I pulled it on, and then pulled
up my new briefs and Levis.  I closed the buttons on my pants, and tucked
my shirt into the waist band.  He pulled on his jacket, and opened the door
a crack and peeked out.  When he saw the coast was clear, he opened it wide
enough to let me through under his arm, and I waved at him and left the
toilet just as the announcer was announcing the arrival of the train for
Los Angeles.
	I saw Steve and Sally each holding a suit case, looking wildly
around for me.  I shouted at them but it was lost in the rising tide of
noise as the depot filled with scurrying people and porters pushing dollys
loaded with luggage.  I ran up to them, and we walked hand in hand toward
the train that would finally take us to California.  Sally's nose wrinkled
and she looked down at me while we were in line to board.
	"What's that smell Davy?"
	"I don't know," I said, winking at Steve.  He grinned at me, and I
grinned back as it got to be our turn to board the train.

End