As Christian unlocked his cherry red Humvee, he thought he might be able to find something better on the streets tonight. A little bondage. A little piss. It was fun. It was always fun. Better than the vanilla most escorts confined themselves to. But bondage had gotten a little old.

It was a foggy autumn day. There were halos around the street lights. Very few hustlers were on the street. Christian motioned to a wispy Latino boy who was jumping up and down to keep warm and rolled down the window.

"What do you do?"

The young man wiped his mouth with his black hoodie sleeve. "Whatever."

The Anglo stared into the young man's dark eyes and suggested they go to a motel that was nearby. The young man fingered one of the strands of obsidian around his neck before getting into the Humvee. The aroma of tomatoes and sweet tobacco filled the cab.

Still twisting the black beads in his fingers, the young man said, "Most people call me Alex." He touched Christian's knee marking the black Versace pants with red dirt. As he pulled his hand away there was a spark. A tingle traveled down Christian's leg putting it to sleep. Alex cracked his knuckles.

The Anglo fidgeted with the motel key. He thought about the lovely toys back in his apartment. Alex's broad inviting features seemed content, but Christian thought he could stir them to baroque ecstasy. However, he could not trust Alex no matter how beautiful he was. Anything could be replaced but his insurance premium was already too high. Once inside, he limped to the bed.

The young man pulled a cigarillo out of his voluminous pants. "You don't mind?" Christian nodded and tossed him some matches. Alex kicked off his shoes and socks and slid off his baggy jeans. His uncut cock lolled listlessly as he placed the cigarillo on the edge of a dresser as he took off his shirt. Ash fell on the carpet.

His warm skin seemed to glow against the rough obsidian beads. The young man picked up his cigarillo and took a long drag, knelt above Christian and blew sickly sweet smoke over his face.

Alex's cock engorged slowly as he pressed his legs into the Anglo's sides. "You want something different don't you?" He reached behind him and grabbed the middle-aged cock. He unrolled a condom from the nightstand over the curved cock before taking it all up his ass. No lube. The young man winced at first, and then remained perfectly still. From deep within the beautiful red gold body, a heat crept.

Feverish heat burnt through the older man's flesh. Sweat streamed down his pale chest. He grunted and struggled to catch his breath. His heart bulged and pumped against his ribs. A nascent sensation swelled around him. It was amorphous. Neither pleasure nor pain, but containing elements of both.

Alex was serene. His body was cold. The only thing that moved was a constant stream of smoke from his lips.

Christian looked up to see the youth's necklace catch the light from the cigarillo cherry. The obsidian blazed. He squirmed. A white light blinded Christian and the sensation of pleasure seemed to last forever.

Christian blinked. His hand was in a mud puddle and he was laying on a dirt road. He heard the scurrying of little feet and a chant of "Gun Gwa Be." He felt little hands poking his bare shoulders. Calloused feet crowded around his head. He lifted his head. He was surrounded by black children. Their chant grew louder and they started to clap their hands and giggle.

Christian remembered last night but did not know what had happened. The young man must have drugged him. He felt groggy and sunburned. Alex had not even left him his clothes. He stood up. Before him was a village of cinder block buildings with corrugated roofs, behind him a thick forest. He did not know where to go. Behind him, someone yelled. The children went silent. The voice yelled again and the children scattered. Christian felt weak.

He turned to see a small well formed man with blue-black skin. The man said something in French. Christian had not spoken French since college. The young man rushed towards Christian as he blacked out.

Christian faded in and out for several days. Heat and chill fought within his flesh. Occasionally, he caught a few words. He had taken French four years in high school, and two semesters in college. Technically he was proficient. He could still write beautifully. Romance languages have a formula like a client's bill.

The dark rugged features of the stranger broke through his delirium.

When Christian finally sat up his eyes were closed but he felt a strong calloused hand cradling his neck. He licked his lips and asked for water. A metal cup was put to his lips.

"Do you have money?" A soft voice asked. Christian opened his eyes. The stranger held the cup. Christian reached to his back pocket. He felt nothing but his sunburned ass.

He said, "Non."

The stranger reached under the blanket and grabbed Christian's hand. He said, " I am Giresse."

Christian's French was coming back. He asked for more water and passed out. When he awoke, he found an orange and lime green tunic and a pair of Adidas shorts at that the foot of the bed. He dressed and left the room. Giresse was lazing on a blue plastic mat. They were in a small cinder block building with cracks in the wall. There was a table in the corner with a single chair. "Aziz says you must pay for the medicine he gave you, but I can pay." Giresse paused, "I am alone. No wife."

Giresse told Christian his life story. How he had lived in a small village in the south, until he told his mother how he felt. She threw boiling oil on his hands and ordered him out. He walked to this town. His uncle had lived here, but was dead now. Christian could not understand everything and smiled.

Everyone had left Christian's savior. He was alone. He prayed to the fetish and sacrificed what he could. Palm wine. Chickens. If it was a good year maybe an old goat. He put his fingers over Christian's heart and rested his head. Christian felt well. Everything was still. Christian touched the base of his savior's head.

Giresse turned on a small battery powered radio. Orange syncopated rhythms struggled with static. A young voice sang, "Mapouka, Mapouka."

Christian looked deeply into Giresse's eyes. He kissed his savior's full lips. He slid off his frayed tunic and held Giresse. Their chests heaved. Christian felt soft sobs.

Christian realized that he was alone. He had been saved. He kissed Giresse's thick neck. He had paid for men like this but never knew there was more to them. This felt like family, like Mark's first Christmas before Christian had started cheating on his wife. They laid arm in arm kissing gently until they fell asleep.

The next morning Christian was wakened by light shooting through the cracks in the wall. Giresse was gone but there was a plastic plate covering a semi-sweet white gruel and a tepid cup of Nescafe. He was famished and downed it quickly.

Christian heard laughter coming through the cracks. He stepped outside to investigate. Children mobbed him, touched him and chanted. He tried talking to them but they shrieked in laughter. He sat down and watched the children watching him.

Giresse came back that evening with a bucket full of tomatoes and peppers. Giresse smiled and kissed Christian on the forehead. They had a fermented couscous and a tomato sauce.

Christian aped Giresse by balling the grains and dipping that in the sauce. After dinner, they listened to a soccer match on the radio. They spooned on the mat. Christian felt the heavy African erection press into his back. The announcer screamed, "Score, Score." Christian turned around and unbuttoned Giresse soiled pants. His satiny cock leapt from the restraint.

Christian ran his tongue between the foreskin and head. The pungent salty taste filled his mouth. Giresse trembled gushing precum. Christian knelt above him and whispered, "You are never alone with me."

He spat on his fingers. He mixed it with Giresse's copious precum and rubbed it over the dark shaft. Christian felt only hard heat as he took all of Giresse's cock into his ass. As it kissed his prostate, he felt a burst of joy. Giresse rocked his narrow hips as Christian rode him. He grunted. Christian sighed.

Christian felt his orgasm rush through his body. He was filled with divine gratitude. Maybe Giresse was more than his savior. He looked down at Giresse's face and saw him contort with his own pleasure. As Giresse came, their eyes met. Tension drained from his face. A white light filled the room. Christian felt gutted with pleasure.

As he sat up, he felt cool air on his sunburn. Christian was lying on his back in a familiar bed. He looked up to see Alex fully dressed with his wallet open. Alex took all of the cash and threw the wallet on the bed. He was out the door before Christian could speak. Christian hoped his ATM card had been left in his wallet. He needed to get some cash and find Alex. He was unsatisfied.

 

©2003 N.A. Hayes - Contributor's Bio