Date: Sat, 23 Jun 2012 21:39:35 -0500
From: s a <midwest12cs@gmail.com>
Subject: Blow 4 Dough, Part 6

Warning: This story contains sex between adults and minors, aggressive
behavior/sexuality, prostitution, and profanity.  Please feel free to email
me.

Blow 4 Dough

By Scott Zucker

Blow 4 Dough, Part Six: The Pig's Bitch


     The next day, I had a blister on my lip.  Nick gave me a small bag of
pills, which helped kill it in two days.  Being the greedy bastard he was,
he charged me fifty for them, and told me that was a family discount.

     My mom had the occasional cold sore, so she didn't think much about
mine.

     Two weeks later, Nick showed me another pic of Tom, the 38 year old,
husky guy.  "Remember him?" he asked.

     "Yeah," I replied.

     "Well, he hit me up and..."

     "Sure," I interrupted.  "I'll do it."

     He was hesitant.  "Just thought you'd say no again, especially
after...," he started to say.

     "It's fine, set it up," I murmured and left.

     I was now becoming as greedy as Nick.  I got a taste of a lot of
money, and I wanted more.

     Within a few days, we went to Tom's apartment.  It was a small but
nice place, which was somewhat cluttered.  The first thing I noticed was
how laid back he seemed.  He also had a deep voice, and was big and
masculine.  Furthermore, he had crazy, blood shot eyes, like he hadn't
slept in days or was stoned.  "We get the money up front," Nick immediately
demanded.

     "You want your money?" Tom asked, pulling out a police badge.  "Here's
your fucking money."  I was scared stiff, and Nick was shocked.  "Sit the
fuck down," he told Nick in a calm but threatening voice.  We both went to
sit on the same sofa.  "Not you," he told me.  I remained standing, as Tom
plopped down and nonchalantly pulled out his enormous cock.  "Get to work
on this monster, you little fairy."

     Quickly, I got down and started sucking it.  "This is entrapment,"
Nick griped.

     "And who's going to believe you?"

     "I know a lawyer," Nick answered.

     "Good, you're going to need one—Nicolas Allen Schmidt."  He seemed
to glare at him for a few seconds.  I couldn't see Nick, but I imagined he
looked petrified.  "You don't remember me, do you?  Of course not.  You're
too fried on drugs, just like your gangster wannabe friends and your crack
whore mother."

     "Fuck you."

     "You know what?" Tom said impatiently.  Abruptly, he shoved my head
away so hard I fell over.  "You're going to suck it," he told Nick.

     "No," Nick declared, darting up.

     "On your knees now, or we're going downtown," Tom said, referring to
police headquarters.

     "Then let's go."  Tom lunged at Nick, and Nick folded.  In seconds,
Nick's face was plastered to the carpet, and his hands were cuffed behind
his back.  His arms were so contorted he was groaning, grunting, and
writhing in pain.  "Okay, okay, I'll do it," Nick gasped.

     "Oh, you will."  He grabbed the back of Nick's hair, and spun him
around on his ass.  He then shoved his semi hard cock against Nick's pursed
lips.  "Open it."

     Nick jerked his face away.  "Take the cuffs off first," Nick muttered,
trying to bullshit his way out of it.

     Tom yanked Nick's head back so hard he pulled out a clump of hair.
However, he just grabbed a bigger clump and thrust him forward.  "Open your
fucking mouth now."

     Nick started to tear up.  "Please, sir, please..."

     "Open it, you cunt!"  Nick reluctantly opened his mouth, and Tom
shoved in his cock.  "Fucking deeper!"  Nick barely complied, so Tom pushed
harder, spreading it like a vice.  "That's it."

     Tom's cock immediately got harder.  For the next few minutes, Tom said
shit like, "no teeth" and "stop faking it," with the occasional "fag" and
"pussy" thrown in.  Tom also kept bragging about raping Nick's mom behind
Sam's, a seedy bar on the south side.  Meanwhile, Nick shook, gagged, and
dry-heaved, all while crying like a little girl.

     Tom turned his body slightly towards me.  "Make yourself useful, queer
boy.  Get over here."  I scrambled over to him, and he immediately thrust
his ass in my face.  "Eat that shit hole out."  I spread his fat ass open
and buried my tongue in his hairy hole.  It felt like a tiny, loose pussy
and tasted like salted shit.  "Yeah, eat it, you little fag."

     As soon as I couldn't taste shit anymore, I plunged my tongue deeper
in him.  That made him writhe harder and groan louder.  Suddenly, he shook
all over and let out a stifled grunt.  I could feel his loose backdoor
pussy tighten abruptly.  He then yanked Nick's head back, and started
cumming inside him.  Nick tried to pull away but Tom grabbed Nick's head
and held it there, until he emptied every drop in his mouth.  Afterwards,
Tom forced Nick's mouth closed with both hands.  Nick had a sourpuss
grimace on his face, and was bright red all over.  "Swallow that shit,
boy," Tom commanded.  Nick wouldn't do it, so Tom shook Nick's head
violently until all of it was down his throat.  Tom then let go of Nick,
and Nick lunged away and started puking all over the carpet.  "Better thank
your brother.  I was about to fuck your ass," he told Nick.  After a minute
or two, Tom went over and took off Nick's handcuffs.  Nick was sobbing hard
and babbling gibberish, all with a scowl on his face.  "Now get out of
here."

     Nick's scowl turned to a hardened glare and his fists clinched, like
he wanted to stay and fight.  Tom didn't seem to notice or care, and walked
to the kitchen to grab towels from the sink.

     I grabbed Nick's arm and tugged on it.  He wouldn't go, so I tugged
harder.  He still wouldn't go.  Just then, Tom glanced at us and pulled out
a handgun from somewhere and placed it on the sink next to him.  He then
looked directly at Nick.  Nick got the hint and bailed out.

     "I'm going to kill that fucker," he promised, as we rushed to his car.
"I swear to God."

     While driving, he called a buddy and made up a story about a drug deal
gone bad with a crooked cop.

     With that, Nick and I never did business again.

     A week later, Nick moved out, and I didn't hear from him for two
weeks.  At that time, he called me with a cryptic message about me coming
over to his hotel room, so he could "make amends".

     Somewhat curious and even more leery, I called up an older friend and
rode with him to Nick.  The hotel was a cheap but decent place in a nice
neighborhood.  I left my friend in the car and went up to Nick's room.
Nick was alone, and he told me to wait for a few.  While waiting, Nick and
I watched TV.

     Then there was a knock at the door.  Nick arose and answered the door.
To my surprise, Xavier was there.

     Xavier came in, and Nick left us alone.

     With his gym clothes on, a faux hawk, and more pronounced muscles, he
looked different.

     "Hey, baby," he said and started French kissing me sloppily.  "I need
to be somewhere in a few, so we need to make this quick," he whispered,
abruptly and hurryingly.

     We went to the bed, and he pulled down his shorts to unveil his now
smelly and untrimmed cock.  I sucked him for a few minutes, until he came
in my mouth.  Then he pulled up his shorts, left some money on the bed, and
rushed away.

     A week later, he fucked me for the first time.  It was one of the most
beautiful sexual experiences I had ever had.

     A few months later, Xavier got a girl pregnant and then married her,
to save face with his family and friends.  However, we still saw each other
occasionally for a few years.  After a while, the sex became casual and
infrequent.  By the end, neither of us felt anything for the other.
Nevertheless, I made a lot of money off of him, which gave me a head start
in life.

     After that day, I only saw Nick two or three times briefly.  Then he
disappeared, and no one has heard from him since.

     I rarely sold myself after that day.  I'd only resort to that if I was
in a big enough bind, or if I wanted something desperately.  I still stuck
with handjobs and blowjobs with the occasional fuck down by a decent
looking guy.

The End