It looked to me like either a drug deal or city paving contract was going down, or some of that aforementioned homo-sex was about to take place on my watch. I desired a closer look-see.
I slid out of the car without closing the door and ran through the rain, hugged the side of the building. I didn’t hear a thing, just the pitter-patter of God’s sweet nectar. So I moved around the side, eased the door open enough to slip my six-foot-three, 220-pound frame through, tip-toed down the concrete and peered around the corner.
The three men were all in there, all right. There was no backdoor to the place, the only other exits being straight down the pipes and into the river. But these guys weren’t sucking up a storm or fucking up a deluge. They were merely standing around by the sinks talking to one another, about the zoo expansion that was underway. My ears got bored and legs tired just listening to them.
It was time to put it on the line, go from covert to overt.
I walked in on the trio, swaying my hips just a little in my Dockers, shuddering my butt cheeks just a little more in my Jockeys. I got their attention. They nodded at me; but nothing more. They went back to their yammering.
I pulled up at a urinal and straddled it, undeterred by their apparent indifference. Some perps you can lead to water, some you’ve got to shove their heads right into the toilet. I unzipped my fly slow and loud, drew my cock out of the folds of my clinging underwear and pants, unfolded it in front of the urinal.
I’d come armed, my rod semi-erect, thick and turgid in my hand. I pumped it up harder, longer, pointing at the porcelain and groaning slightly, glancing over at the men.
‘You all right?’ the short guy with the big hair finally asked.
I sort of grunted, pumping faster, my dick hidden from view by my arm and the urinal. The guy looked at his friends and then walked over closer to me, repeated his question. Flies to the flypaper, I thought, grinning.
When the man was right next to me, I suddenly half-turned around, showing him my now fully-erect dong. Showing all of them my eight inches of vein-ribboned meat. Showing them I meant business.
Then telling them. ‘Yeah, my cock seems to have swelled up all on its own. Know any way to get it back down again?’
The man closest stared at my dick. Then he shrugged his shoulders, said, ‘Sorry, man.’
Sweet street justice, but these guys were cautious to the point of ignoring a cocktease! I gritted my teeth in frustration.
Then I escalated the situation, telling them my name was Cap, getting them to introduce themselves as Len, Tyrese, and Tony. And when we were all on a first-name basis, I blatantly introduced Len to my cock, pushing gently down on his shoulders until he was on his knees, in front of my boner.
He looked up at me, whites of his eyes showing whiter. If it took a force-feeding, I’d give it to him, I was that fired-up.
I sifted my fingers into his afro and pulled his head close, his thick, warm lips bumping against the yawning chasm of my slit. I jerked, and grunted, and merciful man-eaters, but lo and behold Len finally took the bait, blossoming his lips open and blooming them over my hood.