Here’s the entirety of Street Trade: Stealing a John, a new story from the Str8 Trade series! It’s about Chazz’s ongoing quest to explore the exciting world of Street Trade!
There you are, Johnny-boy, I see you comin’ my way! Why don’t you break me off a piece of that sugar?
That was it, that was him. Chazz stepped out from behind the dumpster and stopped in front of John. He was a short black man, muscular but not large, firm and tight-bodied beneath an ill-fitting suit. It wasn’t quite colorful enough or nice enough to be a pimp suit — it was faded and frayed, loose threads and old stains abounding. Chazz knew who John was because he had been living in a flophouse nearby and watching.
John came down here to Canal Street every weekend. He always paid for a blowjob from one of the hookers. He always asked for anal, but he never had the money for it. He begged them to let him in the back-door for free, promising that he’d lick their pussy when he was done — Chazz suspected he would have an excuse to leave if that ever happened: no straight man ate prostitutes’ pussies, he thought.
Chazz thought John was sexy, and he thought John was willing to try a different route to that backdoor. He had been working on this plan for weeks.
“I’m comin’ fo’ you, girl!” John said to the prostitutes. He walked slowly, with a barely perceptible limp.
“Hey,” Chazz said. He startled John, who glared at him. “You wanna make some money? I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to do to me whatever you were gonna do to her, and more. You can fuck me six ways to Sunday.”
John had been bopping his head to an unheard beat as he came down the alley. He kept bouncing on his feet, even as his eyes bugged out. Then finally he stopped and chuckled.
“Yo,” he said, flat and simple. “What?”
Chazz repeated himself. He blushed a little. This was always the awkward part, and he was suddenly a lot less confident that John would say yes. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars. All you gotta do is fuck me.”
“Yo, I, uh, I ain’t homosexual, right, and I don’t fuck ‘round on the downlow.”
“This wouldn’t be on the downlow, this would be here in public.”
“That ain’t a sellin’ point, man,” he said with a snarl. He pushed Chazz out of the way. “Go’n, boi, get outta here b’fore I swipe ya head off. I ain’t no boytoy for no gay, no way, no way, I ain’t gonna lay no fay limp-wrist doin’ sashay always the gay.” He had barely even stopped walking for a moment before continuing on, doing his little rap to that same beat he had been tapping as he came in. He shook his head and headed towards the girls.
C’mon, baby, you look tasty tonight! You wear that suit like a stud!
You get all dressed up like that for me, sweetie? Ain’t you the handomest?!
Chazz was disappointed. He was usually a good read on men. John had seemed like he’d do it for some money, but the way he phrased that and the way he moved on right away made it seem like he would not do it for any amount of money.
“Yo, sweetheart, you lookin’ fine in that purple. Whatcha think ‘bout-“ John stopped talking and turned around. He jogged back to Chazz and smiled, showing off deep dimples. “Yo, I forgot, I do it. Two hundred and some pee.” Then, he gasped, “I mean, in a cup, man. Pee in a cup. Not, you know, like a sex thing. Pee in a cup. I need it tomorruh for a pee test.”
Chazz was taken aback. “Oh. You forgot? You forgot you do swing downlow?”
“I just… I remembered this little business I got, man, it’s real impo’tant and it ain’t not a bit of yo’ business ’t all,” he said. He snorted. “But yeah, I gots a plan fo’ that money, hell yeah. And that’ll be the first time I evuh got clean pee for my PO.” He peered at Chazz. “Do gays smoke weed? You smoke weed?” He screwed up his eyebrows like he had never pondered the possibility that gays might smoke weed.
“No. Well, yes, but I haven’t smoked in months,” Chazz said.
He nodded. “Okay, good.” He produced a specimen cup — an actual one, from a lab — and handed it over.
Chazz went behind the dumpster to pee. “You carry this around with you?”
“I was goin’ somewhere wit’ it,” he said, snarling like he didn’t like Chazz inquiring about it. He came up behind Chazz by the dumpster. He swiped the cup from him as soon as Chazz had replaced the lid. He didn’t seem to care that a few drops of pee got on the sleeve of his ratty old suit. “Get on yo’ knees. You ain’t a girl, so don’t even think I’m gonna seduce you or call you sweetheart or kiss you. I don’t nevuh did love no male man, no way. Nope.”
“No problem,” Chazz said as he dropped to his knees.
Where’d Johnny-boy go? He was just here.
John chuckled dryly. He had a nice, raspy throat that made Chazz hard. Chazz undid the fly of his nattered suitpants. He pulled out a juicy, fat cock. Since John was short and not especially large, his cock looked even bigger, extending almost all the way to his knees and as plump in diameter as his forearm.
“Just put the tip in yo’ mouth, boy,” John said. Then he clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Sorry, I don’t like sayin’ that. I gonna call you girl. Okay, girl?”
“Uh-huh,” Chazz spoke around the cock throbbing in his throat. It was limp still, but it was gathering steam. He could feel it twitching and twinkling as John got used to the situation.
“Alright, girl, put the tip in yo’ mouth.” He paused and pulled out a cigarette. He patted his pants pockets. “Damn, girl, you got a lighter?”
Chazz shook his head. He put the tip of John’s dick in his mouth and suckled loudly, moistly. He got a taste of clean cock — it was clear John had showered right beforehand. He must have wanted to be at his cleanest for the prostitute he had planned on hiring.
John snorted. A trashy-looking white redneck walked past the dumpster, heading towards the girls. He didn’t notice John getting a blowjob in the shadows. “Yo, hey, man,” John called out to him. “You got a light, man?”
The redneck nodded. He fished a lighter out and gave it to John, who lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. The redneck realized then that John was getting a blowjob from a man, and he backed away. “Uh, keep the lighter,” he said. He turned around and darted towards the safety of the prostitutes.
John cackled. “Whiteboys don’t know nothin’ ‘bout this kinda shit. They squeamish as all hell, man.” He took another drag. “Free lighter, alright, alright, alright.” He sighed. “Alright, now get ya tongue out a bit, girl. Move it around some.”
Chazz did what he said. He kept sucking on the tip and licking the shaft at the same time, his tongue flickering out to tease every inch of his manhood. John leaned against the brick wall facing the dumpster. He closed his eyes and groaned.
“Yo, lick right here, baby,” he said. He pointed to a spot, and when Chazz licked that enthusiastically, John groaned again. He smiled. “Yeah, you pretty good. I’m gonna keep tellin’ you how to do it, girl. Hope that’s okay. I’m sure you got ‘xperience, but I like it done in just the right way. Lick here now, girl, get that tongue out… Yeah…” He spoke in a low, slow-melting voice.
Is that you, Johnny? I see you there. Whatchoo doin’ behind the dumpsters? Ain’t you gonna come see me?
John laughed and covered his face. He poked his head out from behind the dumpster. “Hey, sweetheart! I might take a break this week.” He snorted and smiled. “Wait! Nah! You come on ovuh here, Sharlene! I got somethin’ for ya! It’s gonna be real special!” His voice was smooth and kind, but then he glared down at Chazz and spoke more brusquely. “Alright, you can deep-throat me now, girl.”
Chazz was excited to show his capabilities. He slammed his face all the way down on John’s dick, until his nose mashed into the fabric of his slacks. His wiry pubic hair scratched at Chazz’s lips and his balls swayed past his chin.
“Okay, nice, alright then, alright, alright,” John said, like he hadn’t expected Chazz to suck so well. He smiled as Sharlene approached. She was a big black girl with a wide ass. She wore a bright green dress that showed off her assets. She smiled at John, then frowned when she saw that he was receiving a blowjob from a man.
“Hello,” she said. She glared at Chazz and barked out, “what’s this? You stealin’ my customers? My daddy ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout that.”
Chazz grinned, but he didn’t pull off John’s cock, which throbbed in his throat. John gasped like he was shocked that John could deep-throat him all the way to the root.
“Don’t be salty, baby,” John said. He leaned over and kissed Sharlene on the cheek. “He payin’ me, I’m just savin’ some money. You still my one and only. Maybe I can pay you fo’ some anal action next week, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” She put her hands on her hips. “You leavin’ me high and dry.”
“I don’t want you dry, girl, no way. Lemme give you ten,” he said. He pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “I finger ya real good, baby.” He smiled and held up two fingers like he was negotiating. “I put two fingers in ya pussy and one in the ass. You like that? Huh? Or you want two in the ass and one in ya pussy?”
She took the ten-dollar bill. She frowned down at Chazz. “You best hurry up, gayboy. If my daddy come by and you still here, he go’n kick at least three people’s asses. Ten dollars ain’t enough to make him happy.”
John kissed her on the lips. His tongue plunged into her mouth. His head was turned to the side to reach her face, while his crotch was forward for perfect access for Chazz.
As always, when Chazz got into the swing of his latest piece of street trade, he felt a real sense of intimacy with his man. He always thought the best way to get to know a straight man was to suck him off. All of his inner feelings and dreams were palpable when you had him at his most vulnerable, allowing a man to swing on his meat.
And John was no exception. Chazz swallowed his cock to the root as John kissed the prostitute and fingered her pussy and ass. She submited boredly, but John acted like she was just as passionate as she was. Maybe his heterosexuality blinded him, Chazz thought, while Chazz was gay enough that he could see when a woman was just pretending.
John wore this suit to impress her. Chazz had been going back and forth whether he wore it for her or because he just thought he looked good or maybe he was going to go club-hopping later, maybe he just wanted to get his rocks off before hitting on pretty girls so he wouldn’t be too horny. Or maybe he just always wore a suit, or he was hoping to become a pimp one day. There were a million reasons he might be wearing the cheap, ill-fitting burgundy suit.
But the more he sucked, the more Chazz knew the answer — John wanted to look his best for Sharlene, or whichever prostitute looked best to him when he got here. He felt like a trashy loser when he dressed in his ordinary t-shirt and jeans to get a blowjob from a whore, so he wore his only suit instead. He talked like he was seducing her, like she was his girlfriend, like he really loved her, because he wished he was the kind of man who felt that way about a girl.
Now that John was knuckle-deep in the plump prostitute, his dick throbbed and jerked around within Chazz’s throat. It spewed precum in copious quantities.
“I love you, baby, I love you so much,” John murmured to her. He completely ignored Chazz, focusing instead on kissing the prostitute on her neck. “Am I the only nigga you want?”
“Baby, you really are,” she said with a canned moan. She kissed him back on the neck.
He chuckled. “Damn, I like this. Only cost me ten bucks, and I’s gettin’ paid by the fairy. I’s makin’ a profit tonight, damn-howdy!”
The prostitute took a step back. She shook her head. “Nah. My daddy gonna be very mad ‘bout that, Johnnyboy.”
“What?” He had a big smile on his face like a mischievous little boy who had just gotten in trouble.
“Only his girls is allowed to work this alley,” she said. “He go’n cut you. Or just demand all the money the fairy is paying you. Or both.”
John chuckled. “Baby, don’t tell him, okay? You still gettin’ paid-“
“He’s my daddy, I gotta tell him! He get salty if’n I don’t.”
“If you don’t tell him, he won’t know nothin’, baby,” John said. He slipped a second finger into her pussy and groaned. She kissed him on the neck. John groaned. “Tell him the fairy ain’t pay. Tell him I let him have suck me as a freebie.”
“He won’t like that much either, nigga,” she said.
John sighed. “Then tell him to suck my dick or whatevuh, I don’t care. Quit talkin’ ‘bout yo’ pimp.”
He didn’t need to add talk about me instead, but that was what Chazz gleaned he wanted. The prostitute realized that too, and immediately started rubbing his chest through his shirt and talking about how much she wanted a taste of his cock. John just smiled and fingered her pussy. He brought his fingers up to his nose to sniff them.
“Suck ‘em off, baby, lemme see it,” John said. He tried to put his fingers in her mouth, but she kept her lips closed.
“Another ten bucks, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“You charge money to suck on my finger? It just got ya pussyjuice on it, baby? I love you-“
“I love you too, Johnnyboy, but I gotta pay my daddy,” she said. “Ten bucks and I’ll suck on any finger you put in front of my mouth.”
He chuckled and handed over another ten-dollar bill. He shook his head and bit his lip. He put his fingers back in her pussy, then removed his other finger, the one that had been in her ass.
“Hmm,” she moaned like she had been waiting for that. She swallowed his callused finger, making him shudder and lean back again.
Chazz stopped sucking his cock. John watched his finger slide in and out of her mouth like he was hypnotized, like he hadn’t even noticed the blowjob was finished. Chazz pulled his pants down and bared his ass.
Without a word from John, Chazz backed up. He squeezed John’s cock into his asshole. John just kept sticking his fingers in the prostitute’s holes; he switched his fingers around like it was a game, smilingly sickly as he watched her suck her pussy and ass juices off his finger.
Finally he looked down to see his cock slide into Chazz’s ass. He wrinkled his nose a bit, then went back to kissing the prostitute. His whole body trembled beneath the suit.
“Damn, baby, I love anal,” he said. He said it to her even though the only person whose ass he was in was Chazz. His hands roamed over her tits and tweaked her nipples through her green dress. “Can I suck on ya titties, baby? I love you so much. I’m gonna be wit’ you forevuh.”
“Uh-huh,” she crooned. “Twenty bucks.”
“Twenty bucks to suck on ya titties?!”
She smiled. “If you gimme another twenty bucks, I’ll have made fifty bucks off ya. That’s enough I can give my daddy, he ain’t gotta be mad,” she said.
“Alrighty, then, alrighty, but only cuz I love ya and I don’t want him beatin’ on ya, baby. That ain’t a good value, twenty bucks fo’ some titties, nah,” he said with a laugh. But he paid the twenty dollars anyway, and dove for her chest. He lowered her dress to bare the tits and began licking. He groaned. His cock spasmed in Chazz’s ass.
Chazz savored the exquisite feeling of John’s meat throbbing inside him. He moaned. He had to grip the side of the dumpster for support. It took all of his coordination to keep moving his ass back and forth on John’s cock, because John didn’t move his hips at all; Chazz was responsible for the entirety of the fucking. John ignored Chazz completely, kissing and pawing over the prostitute instead.
His sweat soaked his suit, which he had bought in Goodwill for a job interview years ago. John got the job, delivering flowers for a small florist shop. He hated his boss, a mean Armenian man who ran a flower shop even though he was allergic to pollen, disliked romance and thought any man who bought flowers for a woman besides his mother was not a real man. The only part of his job that John liked was that he was not usually in the shop, so he got to walk the streets, smoke joints when he wanted to, and he sometimes got married white housewives to suck his dick (okay, once he got one to suck his dick, but he got handjobs fairly often).
John had never told anyone, but Chazz was not the first man he fucked. When John was in prison for two years, he had a thin, delicate gay black man as a cellmate. Initially, John had beaten him up and taken his fruit cup in the mess hall. He arrived at prison wanting to show off and make a name for himself, and he was glad to have a small, weak cellmate he could pound on.
But over the next nineteen months, John went him hating his lilting, gay-faced cellmate to feeling sorry for him to being grateful for his attention to enjoying fucking him to even giving an enthusiastic reacharound after a few gulps of toilet wine (when there was a sheet up over the cell bars so no one knew John had touched a gay man’s cock). When John was released, he had sworn to himself he was going to make changes in his life, and one of those changes was that he was going to keep visiting his former cellmate. He wasn’t going to be embarrassed about it; he’d do it because he liked the support and adoration and the gay’s unqualified, relentless lust for his body. He liked to feel wanted. He had sworn on his good name that he’d keep coming back.
But once he was free, and he saw girls all over the place, and he got some good-natured ribbing about what he might have done with other males in prison, John wasn’t comfortable with it. In his cell, he could put up a sheet for privacy. If he went to prison as a visitor, he couldn’t hide anything.
So in the end, he had never once visited the man he almost fell in love with. He regretted it often, but John never looked him up again. He counted down the days to the man’s scheduled release date, and then he counted up the days since he had been released.
When he fucked Chazz there in the alley, that was what he thought about, even as he fingered Sharlene. He kissed her while imagining he was kissing a man who didn’t need to be paid to care for him. He bristled with pride at the thought that he had turned someone on enough to pay him for sex. He was a gigolo now, right? Or maybe not technically, but close enough he could claim he was and swear on his mama’s grave he wasn’t lying.
“Kiss me, baby,” he moaned. He grabbed her body and held her close. He kissed her tight on the lips, his tongue exploring her mouth. He was short and she was a little taller than him, but she was much thicker, so he looked even smaller in comparison, like she could have swallowed him up whole if she wanted.
His cock spasmed as he groaned into her mouth. His muscles tensed beneath the suit, which was now plastered to his chest with sweat. His balls drew up in his sac, and for the first time since this had begun, he gripped Chazz’s bare asscheeks. He loudly orgasmed, gasping and heaving in the shadowy alley.
John held Chazz in place and swayed his hips from side to side, fucking every inch of his insides. Cum sprayed over his prostate, triggering Chazz’s own orgasm at last. He sprayed his wad onto the garbagey alley ground, while John’s load coated his body.
John kept on fucking, sucking on the prostitute’s tongue and tweaking her nipples with both hands. His cock rammed in and out of Chazz’s cum-dripping ass. The more he fucked, the more of a mess he made — John had developed this game with his cellmate, making his load frothy, spilling out, bubbling forth in a big drippy wad that made him gag and laugh.
“Damn, boy, you take it — I mean, damn, girl, you got real nasty there, that was nice,” John said. He whistled. He pointed to the messy ass. “You see that, Sharlene? Lookit that. That is some nasty anal. That is right. That’s how you do it.”
“I do that, sugar,” Sharlene said like she was offended at the insinuation that she didn’t know how. “You know my price. You know I don’t give no discounts on anal, not no how.”
He smiled. He kissed Sharlene on the lips. “Yo’ daddy lettin’ you go out sometime, baby? I take you out to dinner-“
“No, sugar, that ain’t allowed,” she said. She pulled her dress back up over her tits.
He shrugged like he was expecting that answer, which he was: he asked her that every time she sucked him off. She said no every time he hired her, which was most weeks — basically unless she was with a different john when he arrived. He didn’t like waiting for her because it gave him plenty of time to wonder what kind of guy she was with, and then she’d inevitably taste like another man when he did get to kiss her. He knew that she was with a lot of men regardless; it was just easier to forget that when he didn’t have to wait for her to be finished with them.
“Hey, girl,” he said to Chazz as he smacked Chazz’s asscheeks. “Will you suck my nut out ya asshole? I want that. That’s hot, man. I love that. Ain’t no kinda girls ever do that. I never seen a female do that, and it turns me on so much-” He paused, then lied as he realized he had sort of admitted he did this with a man before “I mean, some girls do it, some do. That’s how I know how hot it is. But a lot of ‘em won’t do it.” The only person he had ever seen suck cum out of his own ass was his cellmate, but John wasn’t about to admit that.
“Okay, yeah,” Chazz said.
John smiled. He let go of the prostitute and slowly withdrew his limp dick. He gagged at the sight of juices dripping from it. He laughed so loud it echoed against the walls of the dumpster. “Ugh, this is so nasty, girl, I love it. I’m gonna love you too if you do this. I swear to God, I will marry you any day if you promise to suck on ass-to-mouth. So fuckin’ nasty. Nasty. Nasty. Nasty. I love it.”
He stroked his cock with one hand. It was so sensitive he yelped and his body undulated beneath the suit. He loosened the tie with his other hand. He rammed two fingers into Chazz’s ass. He gagged again, laughing nervously at his own reaction. He clawed inside Chazz’s body, causing a torrent of pain and exquisite post-orgasmic pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and watched with wide-eyed amazement as Chazz sucked them clean.
His fingers and hand were soaked in cum and assjuice. Chazz loved it. If he had thought John would ever agree to finger his asshole, he would have asked — he would have paid more if he knew it was an option, so he was glad John had initiated it for free instead. John’s fingers were callused and scarred, and they tasted like stale sweat beneath the assjuice and cum.
“That was so disgusting, girl, I love it,” he said to Chazz. “I swear to God, I will marry you, baby.” He paused. “I ain’t serious, I know you ain’t no girl. I won’t marry you. No how. You ain’t my boyfriend.”
“I know,” Chazz said. He pulled his own pants up. He felt grimy and dirty, but he loved that feeling. He watched John tuck away his own cock and zip his slacks back up.
Daddy’s here, where’s my money, babies?!
A big black man in a fine blue suit — this one was perfectly tailored, vibrantly colored and clean as a whistle; this man was clearly a pimp — walked into the alley. He bellowed, and the prostitutes at the other end of the alley all spoke at once. There was a chorus of feminine voices.
The pimp didn’t notice Sharlene there, so she stepped out from behind him. She smiled and giggled to get his attention.
“Oh, hello, baby, whatchoo doin’ back there?” He saw John. “G’evenin’, sir. You got ya usual?”
John laughed. “Not the usual, exactly. But I got what I need, nigga, no pro’lem.” He walked away, dapping his head as he walked, dancing to an unheard beat just like he was when he entered the alley.
Chazz hid there in the shadows for a moment, while the prostitute handed her money over and explained what had happened. When her pimp glowered a little like the money she had earned was not enough, Chazz wondered if he was going to get in trouble after all.
So he fled into the night. He was thin and quick, and the pimp didn’t know he was there, so he just darted right past him and ran out of the alley.
Chazz was ready to move on. The city streets were alive with hot straight men, and Chazz couldn’t wait to service every last one of them.