New Man at the Village Café

Walking my way now, your eyes blazing, staring at me. Surely you weren’t coming to me. I was sitting in the right place. You’d get your percentage. You were twice my size and so strong; you had nothing to worry about from me.

Bending your lips down to my ear. “In the alley. 50 pesos for a suck.”

Shuffling toward the alley, the two of us. Me having second thoughts. More dangerous than an East European, I was thinking. I started to walk faster. You picked up the pace and grab on to the tail of my shirt, which I had been wearing open, an advertisement for the tourist clients. My shirt coming away in your hands as you did. You laughing; me beginning to pant a bit. Everything moving too fast. Your arm around my shoulder, as you guided me into the mouth of the ally, slipping a hand in my pocket, moving it to cup me and feel me and play with me while you found a place behind trash barrels near the mouth of the alley. Stay near the mouth of the alley, I was thinking, hoping, praying.

Pushing me against the dirty stuccoed wall and down on my knees between your thighs. Unzipping yourself and pulling out a huge, half-ready tool. I gurgled and you hummed as I sucked you. You giving me little time to adjust, thrusting and thrusting at me.