Beer and Sweat.

Decked out in all black, I walked through the muggy heat of an early Tucson morning. My goal was to make it to the cinema and catch Man of Steel. As I waited at the main bus station, I was asked by a young man for a cigarette. I gave him one. Then he went on to boldly ask if he could have five dollars to buy a beer. I looked at my watch, it was 10:37am. 

"Sure", I said and handed over a five dollar bill. I could never say no to a pretty face. Anyway, who was I to judge? The boy was thirsty. However, I mentioned that not only was it a holiday, but early. Everything was still closed.

"The bar across the street is open." He smiled.

I gazed over and saw that it was indeed open and offered the kid a beer. "Why don't we sit in a cooled bar and drink instead of you squatting in some simmering alley keeping one eye out for cops?"

We entered the Iguana Bar and ordered beer, I had a Corona, he had a draft of Coors. He stated his name was Isaiah and that he was currently residing at the homeless shelter. I mentioned that don't they breathalize you every time you enter and he assured me that it was early enough that the alcohol would wear off by time curfew hit.

And so, we drank. And drank. And drank some more. Laughing and chatting of things. He mentioned, though he was German, he was raised his early years in Nicaragua before his family relocated to Tucson. I spun my tales of travel and addiction and that I was a writer of obscene materials read by like minded individuals. As he ogled the big boobed woman tending the bar, I casually dropped the fag bomb. Why, I have no idea. Okay, I do. I was drunk and he was very attractive and the fact that I wanted to have sex with him.

He remained quiet for a bit but then mentioned that it really wasn't a problem. As a fact, his dialog turned towards sex and the fact that he hadn't cum in over two months. He kept mentioning that he really wanted to tit fuck the bartender, that she was definitely his type. Female, I wagered. All the while, my gay eye noticed that he kept groping his crotch in his baggy jeans, laughing, smiling, eyes squinted and crimson.

"You know, Isaiah," I said blankly. "If you want to come over to my house, we can take care of that dry spell." I was overtly blatant, I know. I blame the alcohol.

"Can I finish my beer?" He asked with a straight face.

After two more beverages, we found ourselves at my dim, air conditioned flat. He sat on the couch with his baggy jeans down and a long, circumcised erection pointing towards the ceiling. Momentarily, I stood there admiring his long, lithe torso. Hairless and pale. He was skinny and toned naturally. No gym bunny, he. As Isaiah watched the porn on my TV, I sucked that cock with gusto, Dear Reader. His erection was firm as a 23yr olds can be. Momentarily, he grabbed the back of my head with one hand, clenching the sofa cushion with the other, as he squirted two months of backed up semen down my gullet. Damn. It was a lot. I even gagged a little. Isaiah reclined his head back, sighed heavily and smiled. "Fuck! I needed that.." He sighed.

Isaiah then took a shower and I invited him for lunch at Subway. We talked more of his dreams of travel in which I explained that he should. There is nothing more thrilling in the world than aimlessly wandering from one exotic locale to the next. You never know what thrilling things will present themselves.

Afterwards, I walked Isaiah to the bus terminal, we shook hands and he left.

I returned home, took a nap, and awoke just in time to witness the 4th of July fireworks with the other tenants. An impressive display. The neighborhood kids congregated on a corner and squealed in delight at each colorful burst. I returned to my apartment, sat at my desk and began scribbling out notes on a new novel...