Date: Sat, 11 Jun 2016 13:14:02 -0400
From: eric jones <joneseral@gmail.com>
Subject: Attorney-Client Privilege, Chapter 8

* This is a work of fiction.  My experiences and likes influence all
my writing, so there might be a nugget or two of truth somewhere
within, but don't worry, it's carefully hidden...  Any similarity with
actual people or places is entirely coincidental.

* This story involves interracial sex between adult men.  There is lot
of crude stereotyping, role play, nasty and demeaning language and
other things that might be called kinky or just plain ignorant.  If
any of this offends you, please leave now.

* If you are underage or if reading this is illegal where you are for
any reason, please leave now.

* Feedback is welcome.

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I was in my zone again. My happy place. The place where all my senses
are peaked. When things just seem so perfect, in so many ways.

As Darryl was cumming in my mouth I felt closer to him than I had all
day. Closer than when he was almost a foot up my ass at "lunch."

For me, this was a close as I could get to a man. The most intimate
act. Some people think giving up ass as the ultimate deed. For me, it
was having a man down your throat, pressed up against your face.

Your face is what you show the world. It's where you eat and talk and
breath. Your face is precious. When a man wants to humiliate you, he
slaps you on your face. When a lover wants to show devotion, he kisses
your face. The face is public and it's special. Your face is you.

And now Darryl had all of me.

As usual in these situations, I couldn't be more vulnerable... On my
knees, his hands on the back of my head holding me in place, his whole
length wedged down my throat, my mouth stretched open wider than
natural. Barely able to breathe. All I could see was his crotch. He
was all I could smell. All I could feel. I was at his mercy.

And it was by choice.

At this moment of vulnerability, of being used so completely for the
pleasure of another, I felt like I was at my strongest. Even in that
moment, for whatever flashes or clarity or consciousness I could
muster, I would be thankful for the chance. For the opportunity. He
got the pleasure of stimulation, of another's submission, of the
animal instinct to release. I got the honor of experiencing all of
him, and ending with part of him in me forever.

As he slacked his grip on my head, and as he slowly softened and
started to withdraw from my mouth and throat, he was still there. His
seed was burning it's way down my throat, and he left his taste and
smell behind. Like the line of spit from my mouth that drooped from
the end of his dick as he pulled away from my face, hanging in mid
air, stretching and seeming like it would never end, the act didn't
end with busting his nutt.

The bulk of his babies were already in my stomach or well on their
way. But as he dragged the head across my tongue, he left a trail of
cum on my tastebuds. My lips were chapped and my face was wet and
itchy. But I could still taste him. Taste the most important part of
him.

I never thought that nutt tasted good. But I always knew it tasted
important. An acquired taste. Like a medicine you know you needed, or
an expensive wine that you know you should feel privileged to drink. I
didn't fully understand it, but sensed there was a power in swallowing
his load. He may have used me as a hole, but I derived power from him
in the end.

He ruffled my slightly sweaty hair before he pulled up and fastened
his pants. It was common but patronizing move. Like petting a dog. At
best the kind of thing you would do to a little kid. It was a kind,
but still blatant symbol of power and rank. But I didn't care. I was
on my knees, catching my breath and trying to savor the taste of him.
To be offended by a rub on the head at this point would have been
absurd.

Like most dudes, Darryl raced back to reality only a few seconds after
his dick got soft. There was a decent amount of appreciation shown,
but he wasn't going to gush. That wasn't his role.

"Imma hit ya up soon," he assured me, getting ready to part ways.

"Cool," I responded, genuinely interested. In the inevitable
afterglow, I was not only attracted to him, but appreciated him as
well.

"Neva thought I would get head at da courthouse," he said amused.

"Never let it be said you never got anything out of the law," I joked back.

"Bet no one would believe peeps get grimy, breaking da law right here
below all da fancy judges and lawyers," he said, seemingly amazed that
even in this basement janitor's closet people could do what people
always do. Fuck.

I knew differently, of course. One doesn't want to flaunt experiences
with other men to a man you were just with. That would be crude. But
this wasn't my first trip to the basement with a guy. A cocksucker
always knows of places. It pays to be prepared.

"Aiight, I'm out."

"OK, you first and I'll follow you out with a discreet delay," I told him.

He poked his head out of the door, looked around a little and then was
gone. I checked myself and smoothed my hair, trying to do the best I
could to not look like I had just gone down on a man. I opened the
door and walked out in the deserted hallway. A moment later I was on
the stairs heading back up. It was late and without really needing to
look I knew the place would be empty by now. The employees were long
gone.

I was already taking stock on the day. It had certainly been
interesting. I had a lot to think about. A lot of jack off about. I
was a little "cock drunk" I guess, buzzed on the sex I had just scored
for the second time with Darryl. Part of my senses were keen... but
others were dulled. Otherwise I would have seen him.

That basement hadn't been deserted after all. Shit never stays in the
closet for long.

-------------------------------------------------

I needed a nap.

It had been a long day. No sleep. Two guys got it in, one of them
twice. The sun was setting and I was finally started to feel it. Dick,
like caffeine, can't keep you going by itself, no matter how much you
consume. Plus I actually had to do some work.

I crashed as soon as I walked in the door. Asleep on the couch, with
my shoes on and my phones in my pocket. Exhausted.

I slept through calls and texts. It was 10 p.m. before I finally got
up in a panic, hearing a steady beating on my door. I didn't know
where I was or what was happening. It was that disorienting sleep.

As I ran to the door I heard a voice I knew. Damn, he was the one who
woke me up.

I unlocked the door and stood out of the way. Duda strode in, looking impatient.

"Damn, dude, you gonna sleep all night?," he asked.

"I would have, but some asshole was beating on my door," I came back
with, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"Some asshole gonna be beating ya ass if ya don't watch that mouth,"
he said with a smart-ass smirk.

"They're going to have to wait in line, there's a long list of guys
trying to beat THIS ASS, and that's just today."

"Ewww, ya so fuckin nasty..."

"You weren't saying that last night..."

"Shows what a fuckin whore ya are, Sy. Ya horny ass THOUGHT it was me.
Guess that mean you don't even know who came in ya, or how many..."

"Of course I know who it was."

"Lemme guess, screen name was Mandingo Warrior and he said you were
gonna be his first dude fuck..." he said laughing to himself.

"Well I'm sure I was his first. You know I flip straight dudes like
yourself almost every day," I said with my biggest smile.

He shook his head. "Believe what ya like, faggot," he said as he
grabbed his crotch, stuck out his tongue and walked away. "Imma take a
piss," he called back.

"You need me to hold it?" I yelled back. He didn't respond.

I loved playing games with Duda. He loved to talk shit and I enjoyed
trying to throw it back at him. He was a freak with his, just like I
was a freak with mine. Brothers in arms, just on different sides of
the fence.

"I'm high," he announced on his way back in the room. "Whatchu got ta eat?"

"Cereal. Frozen shit."

"Maaaaannnnnn... I'm hungry as fuck."

"Me too actually."

"You betta order a damn pizza."

That didn't sound bad to me, I hadn't eaten much more than dick all day.

"Tell ya what," he said with a scheming look. "I will order it and
then all you gotta do is pay for it."

He had that cute smile on his face. How could I resist.

"Wow... That's generous of you, Duda. Are you sure you don't want me
to order it too? I'd hate to put you out..."

"No problemmo, mah man."

We settled in. He just assumed he could hang with me. I just assumed
he would stay. We were boys like that. Shoes off, feet up on the
table, hand tucked in your pants, burping kind of comfortable.

As usual, the topic eventually turned to dirt. He was as big a whore
as I was. He may not have really liked hearing my stories, but I loved
to hear his. And he at least pretended.

"So, I go outside ta cool my dick off, after I woke up and fucked old
girl in da butt AGAIN, and guess who car was gone? Huh? At 4 o'clock
in the mornin?"

"I was out," I said, not looking at him.

"Yea... out... So who was it, or should I ask what dat nigga looked
like, since you prolly don't know the muthafucka's name?"

So I told him the whole story. The random headshot with Tyson.
Representing him. The referral of Darryl and our escapades.

He just shook his head the whole time.

"You do da dumbest shit. Your faggot ass is gonna end up wit a blade
up in ya instead of a dick if ya don't stop trollin for thugs and
street trade."

"I just went with the flow. It seemed safe..."

"Ya thought a locked storage room in da back of a shit-hole with some
drug-dealin, bitch-slappin nigga was safe?"

"Yeah..."

"You was horny as fuck, dat's all you was thinkin about. A big black dick."

"It worked out ok in the end."

"It all worked out IN your end."

"It was a little quid pro quo, as we say in the law..."

"Is that Latin for 'nutt in my boipussy'"

I couldn't help but laugh. I was being a smart-ass myself, but Duda
wouldn't let me win that easily.

"Anyway," I said, "it's not like anyone was hurt. I got them better
deals than they would have gotten from another lawyer and I got to
meet some guys I might otherwise not get to meet."

"I don't know which is more fucked up, them or you."

"You're being kinda harsh, Duda. It was just some hookups."

"Dudes just doin' what they gotta do to get through. They needed shit
and you charged em some nutt to get it done."

"Well, I think that's a bit of an oversimplification..."

"Would the same shit have happened - da same outcomes - if they hadn't
nutted in ya?"

"Yes."

"You fuckin lying."

"Well, I mean... you can't predict what MIGHT have happened in a case..."

Duda gave me that WTF? look.

"Ya know, you not da only dude dat used work to get some play. Ya just
the only lily-white frat boy that gets deals for thugs just so ya can
get banged out..."

"I doubt that," I said.

"Pullin' strings ta get what ya want. The American Way!"

"Such a poet, Duda. I didn't know you were on such a high, moral horse."

"Dude, I ain't neva claimed to be all moral and shit. I woulda done
the same shit with a chick."

"I thought you'd be impressed."

"Sy, you done some grimy shit and I didn't think there was much more
to tell. But tonight... Ya surprised me."

I didn't know whether to be insulted or excited. I too was surprised.
Surprised at Duda's reaction. I had a lot to think about. We waited in
silence for the pizza.

It had been a long day...