December 31st, 2 A.M.
“Take it, you little fucker,” I growled while I stuffed my c**k down the throat of a nameless guy in the alley behind the third bar I’d visited that night after the argument with Nelson.
At least the man on his knees was eager to please, and his mouth was tight enough, I saw stars. I held his head in my hands, steady as I punched in and out, his throat a perfect cavern as he swallowed and stole my breath with an orgasm that was unreal.
I dropped back against the wall, panting, and watched as the man before me stripped his c**k using the c*m he’d spit into his hand. He came with a yelp that I thought was funny, but was too polite to laugh. He sounded like a poodle. Whatever, he’d been willing, and I got off, so…good times.
The guy stood and tucked my c**k back into
