Free Blatino Str8 Trade: Alpha Thugs Downlow (Ultimate Str8 Trade Book 1) by Marcus Greene Page A

well though, growing thicker and stronger with every thrust of Ribbon's crotch.
    His knees went weak, and he nearly dropped the jacket. Walter gasped and held on. The lower part just barely brushed the ground, but he didn't think Ribbon noticed that.
    "Be careful, nigga, you almost made a serious mistake," Ribbon said. He chuckled as Walter writhed beneath his touch. "Whose dick is up in ya gut?"
    "Ribbon's!"
    "That's right, bitch. Whose bitch is ya?"
    "I'm Ribbon's bitch!"
    He stopped humping with his cock all the way in. He stayed there until Walter winced and wiggled. Ribbon spat on Walter's back. "I'm gonna nut in a minute. When you feel my nut inside you, you start sayin' , I'm Ribbon's bitc h . You say it over and over until I finish shootin'."
    "Yes, Ribbon."
    Then he slammed his dick in and out, seemingly trying to make it as painful as he could for Walter. It was arduous, and Walter screamed -- he didn't have to pretend to be in agony. But behind the pain his prostate tingled with pre-orgasmic feelings; he'd have to jack off in the bathroom when this was over, he thought, since he couldn't very well do it in front of Ribbon.
    The more he wiggled in pain, the more Ribbon grunted with satisfaction. "You sorry 'bout losing my money, deadbeat?" he asked over and over. Walter tried his best to answer, but all that came out was  a formless mass of syllables. It didn't sound like Ribbon really expected an answer, or if he did, he accepted cries of pain as answer enough.
    "This'll learn ya, nigguh," he said, mouth grim and lips pursed as though it hurt him to fuck Walter. "You think I like this shit? Huh? It's the only thing I can get from deadbeats that they can't sell off, so sometimes this is the only way I can get my interest paid. You don't like it, nigguh, next time don't be a fuckin' deadbeat." Then he paused and grunted. His muscles shuddered beneath the purple shirt and tie he still wore.
    When Walter felt that first drop of cum inside him, he had to stifle an orgasmic moan so he wouldn't sound gay. He only barely remembered Ribbon's command in time.
    "I'm Ribbon's bitch! I'm Ribbon's bitch! I'm Ribbon's bitch!"
    As he said it, his voice increasingly frenetic and pinched, the rest of the shop nervously laughed. They were all afraid they could be in Walter's position one day, so while this was the kind of show they might enjoy, they found this one in particular nerve-wracking and off-putting.
    His cock limpening inside Walter as the last few drops of cum dribbled in, Ribbon pulled on his hair. He dragged Walter around in a circle, aiming his face at the counter and cash register. There was a box of tissues there as well.
    "Get some tissues outta there," Ribbon said. "And wipe my dick off."
    His eyes watering, Walter did as he was told. Ribbon didn't pull his cock out until Walter was trying to clean off the root of Ribbon's cock. Then tremendous relief flooded him. Walter took a deep breath, glad to have the pain gone. Now he just wanted to get into the bathroom to take care of his own hardon. He quickly wiped cum and assjuice off Ribbon's rod, remembering to gag only at the last second so it would look like he didn't enjoy touching ass-dripping cockmeat.
    "You learn yo' lesson, boy?"
    "Yes, Ribbon," Walter said. He handed back the jacket and hat as Ribbon got himself situated again.
    "Good. I be back in one month, Lyle. You got one month, then I'm gonna take this debt outt a yo ' ass."

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
    The Jerkjob
     
    Walter had almost forgotten about Naluke, the college football star whose stepfather had goaded him into fucking Walter. Walter had sort of suspected that the relentless teasing last time would keep Naluke from coming back. He hadn't been in since September, but he returned around Thanksgiving. Walter's blood started rising -- even though Naluke had suggested he would never swing downlow again, the way he walked as he re-entered the shop months later