NEWS

This blog is a graveyard, yeah?

Not many updates. The ones that come prove more and more estranged from the original intent.

But read on and let me sell you something that doesn't yet exist: The Wolves that Live in Skin and Space. It's a book I've written that should come out sometime soon. April 2015, I'm told.

Something else...

I still have sex, though the proof is less excessive than it used to be. Here is some proof that you might enjoy if you are the type to enjoy such things: Make Love Not Porn. 

More...

There's a project I'm (slowly) working on that I hope to become a future book. The greater whole has little to do with the following chapter. But no matter my effort to distance myself, the past seems to find its way back into most things. Here is a small piece of the past as something new.


40.

The john picks up Kayden at an intersection half a mile from the house. He drives and inspects Kayden's torso with a hand beneath his shirt.

"Do you even like to fuck?" asks the john.

"What?"

"Do you like to fuck men?"

"Yeah, sure," says Kayden.

"I ask because you remind me of my son." The john rubs Kayden's hand and guides it towards the meat beneath his gym shorts. "He doesn't really speak to me anymore."

"You want me to pretend I'm your son?" asks Kayden.

"I want you to make me feel good," says the john. "So, in other words, 'No.'"

Kayden grasps for cock and feels the john deflated in his palm. He tugs softly under the shorts, and then harder. All with little progress.

"I just find it strange how often you kids make it a point to say you're different. Or, I guess, normal."

"I'm not sure what you mean," says Kayden.

"Six years back, I dabbled in your line of work. Mostly on the porn side of things. I was more cut up back then, so I could play the 'daddy' thing real well."

There's blood in the john's cock now. Kayden has something to hold on to.

"I'd just divorced. Thought it would be a great 'fuck you' to my ex, you know? Plus, it sounded like the dream. Who doesn't want to get paid to fuck boys a decade younger?" The john looks at Kayden and bears his teeth. "Okay, so not you, right?"

"I'd be into whatever," says Kayden with hopes to shut the john up.

"I've heard that before," says the john. "We'll see. At least you're trying. The bar's been set too low by your generation. I was almost going to say that I admired how you don't come off as a piece of shit."

Kayden tugs the john's shorts down as far as they'll go. Then he drools over the john's crotch and sets to rubbing the cock at its tip.

"Stop rushing," says the john. "I don't want to take back what I just said. I'm going to give you an example of the fucking despicable nature of you little hustlers, and you're going to prove yourself the exception, right?"

Kayden's silent as the john pulls his car to the side of the road.

"Here." The john holds Kayden's face close to his. "Kiss me."

The john's lips are moisturizer soft and his mouth moves in slow and tender desperation. He sucks in Kayden's breath and lets it loose into his nostrils, as if it were perfume.

"You are a bit of something wonderful, aren't you?" says the john. "Show me more."

Kayden sucks cock the only way he knows how. And he listens.

"You know, I was excited my first day on set. My agent sent me pictures of the boy I was going to fuck. Some nineteen-year-old muscle jock. Great chest and arms. His face looked stupid and adorable; basically, perfect for the circumstances.

"I shook the kid's hand when I met him, and he introduced himself. Immediately after, he was on his phone. I understood it. We weren't there to make friends. And fuck, that's the world these days.

"But if the crew asked him anything, he made it a point to bring up girls. Flings from his past, his girlfriend, the slut from his gym that he'd bang after work. If someone offered him a bottle of water, he would ask if it was Fiji, or some shit, because his girl turned him on to BPA-free packaging and he wouldn't drink from anything else.

"Why the fuck should I care, right? I didn't. He could talk pussy all he wanted. Trust me, I knew the game. I was married at twenty.

"When we got to set, the kid was on his phone in the corner of the room, watching hetero porn and jerking his limp cock. I looked over his shoulder, hoping to catch his attention and get a blowjob, or something. Because, fuck, I needed my edge too.

"The kid turned to me and said, 'No offense, but you disgust me.' Those were his words to get me in the mood. Later, he said it wasn't personal; that I should understand because he was straight.

"I had to think about that. Was he straight when I fucked him up the ass? He kept moaning and his hole opened up real quick. Maybe he liked pussy so much, he had to keep one inside himself.

"You understand what I'm saying, though? A kid who works at McDonalds gets fired for acting like a shit. 'You disgust me,' he says to a customer. Fuck. You think that would go over well?"

Kayden nods and shakes his head in answer to everything he's heard and doesn't care about. Then he feels his cheeks expand with a burst of the john's sex.

"That's good. Real good." The john exhales thunder and holds Kayden's head in place. "I never came like that on set. Didn't come at all my first day. Got so pissed, I couldn't keep myself hard. The production assistant shot me up with caverject and then lined my palm with lotion when it was time to film the pop shot. Had to squeeze it out while jerking, like I was dribbling cum on the kid's face."

Kayden sits with the seed in his mouth and counts the seconds, like sheep, until the cock shrivels and falls from his lips.

"What do you do with it?" asks the john. "Do you savor the taste? Do you swallow? Or are you holding it there on your tongue like rotten milk?"

A strand of semen spills on to Kayden's chin as he sits up and meets the john's stare. He lets his spit come out with it and hang there, kind of slutty-like, to retain his brand of hustler-cute. "What do you want me to do?" asks Kayden, in his head.

"I can wash it out for you." The john runs his hand through Kayden's hair and massages the back of his scalp. "It warms my heart to see you there, not yet sick of me."

The john's embrace is strong and leads them outside the car to a well-hidden patch of dirt. There, the john pushes Kayden to his knees and fills the boy's mouth with hot piss.

"Wait," says Kayden, and his face becomes wet.

The john uses Kayden's nose to wipe the last drip from the tip of his cock. Then he takes a seat beside his purchase in the dirt.

"You're good at your job," says the john. "Not great, but better than I'd hoped for." He pats Kayden on the knee and grabs a firm hold further up at the thigh. "Can I give you some advice? If you're going to do something just because you can, and because it makes someone else happy, don't make it this. Go to school. Find that thing you like. Some boys can't help but be a cumrag. Not you. I can see in your eyes that you're worth something more. Even if you've found a way to earn some satisfaction from it, the rest of the world will hate you. Some will take pity on you, because you're young. And yes, you'll have their attention for the duration of a fuck. But after that, they'll hate you.

"My ex showed our son one of my videos. That was it. I'm not a father anymore. The end."

"Do you hate me?" asks Kayden, because he's scared and maybe for his life.

The john smiles -- his first time for the night. "Don't worry. I'll drive you home. Even pay you extra. Just sit with me until the sun comes up. Breath through your mouth and you'll be alright."

Kayden does the labor he's paid for and takes the john's advice. The urine dries and the smell becomes less noxious. With the john's coat around him, he lets his eyes rest. And he finds himself wrapped in the arms of the man who fucked his throat. It's both from the exhaustion of pretending he's elsewhere and the impression of safety he feels in being held that Kayden's able to sleep.

When he wakes, Kayden's curled up in the passenger seat of the john's car, his drool stuck to the upholstery.

The john drives and masturbates indifferently. He sees Kayden awake and says, "I didn't know where to drop you off. And you look cute when you're asleep. Didn't think it would be fair to wake you. For me, at least."

Kayden doesn't give the john his address, but the car stops in front of a house in walking distance from his home.

"One last tug before I never see you again?" The john holds Kayden's hand and waits for its decision.

Alone, and a hundred yards from his front door, Kayden fingers the bills in his pocket and wipes them with the wetness in his palm. "I can do anything," he says to himself, and he believes it at last.