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Play By The Rules

 

By Chris Carr

 

April, 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Coming soon to The Studies!

   

 

 

Actually, I haven’t a clue why I’ve been so many things to so many people. I’m not like I look. I don’t gang bang, I ain’t shot nobody and I don’t scrap, ‘less I absolutely have too. I like to dance, I listen to Janet Jackson, Christina Aguilera and Alis Morisette. Most niggas don’t see that, though. Just what they wanna see. But it’s all good. Long as they follow the rule.

Some niggas got more and, of course, they get more. Like that nigga with the internet company. Ol’ boy was knee deep in it. Mutha fucka had cheese. That was the first nigga let me drive his car. Shit, I was just starting high school and I’d just broke up with Carlos.  

For the most part, I was on the streets, crashing at a buddies’ or one of my ladies’ house for the night.  I was ‘bout to hop a ride on the blue line when he drove up. Nigga was flossing, rolling up in a Lincoln Navigator, money hanging out his pockets. Just my type.  

He offered me a ride and before the afternoon was over I was in the shower with dude, his dick six miles up my ass. That was the problem with Nicky, though. Nigga loved to fuck.  

Don’t get me wrong, I can take it like the best but, ’err day? Nicky use to say I had the most fuckable ass. He loved for me to walk around in them boxer briefs. You know, them kind that hug your ass and shape it? Can’t tell you how many times I’d find him following me, butt naked, his dick on hard. It was like that nigga’d pop outta walls, way he’d just show up.  

My time with Nicky was phat though. Had a bomb assed house with a big screen TV, video games up the ying yang and more clothes than I could ever wear.  

He worked out of his house which meant my ass was always on tap. But that was all good, long as he got me what I wanted. And the weed? Nigga, he had that good-good!  

Whew, my ass stayed blazed, 24/7. Homey had this big assed bed with a remote to every kind of TV, DVD, or sound system you could find. I had cable, films streaming up the ying yang and all the porno I could ever watch.  

I’d lay up in that bed, in them briefs he liked, blazed like a mutha fuck till way past 2:00. That’s when my stories go off. And, he let me drive his car. But not that Navigator. He had an older Lexus and, every once in a while, he’d let me drive it.  

I didn’t even have a license but Nicky was cool like that. Yeah, I was living large and all I had to do was give him some, whenever he wanted. Which was like, ’err day. Sometimes it seemed like it was all day.  

Most the times he’d come in there before my soaps came on. When I’d see him coming, I knew what was up and even though Nicky would fuck me till I was sore, my mutha fucking dick would get hard.

“Oh, oh,” He’d say, playing with it in my briefs. My face would be glowing and I’d get all red ‘cause, I couldn’t figure out why my dick would bust hard like that.  

Nicky didn’t wear anything but this robe, most the time, and I’d see his dick sticking up from the opening in the front. Wouldn’t be doing anything but listening to music that early, so I didn’t trip when he started pulling my briefs off.  

Up my legs would go and then I’d feel him cramming that big assed dick he had up in me. “Wait!” Sometimes, I’d have to tell him that, but I was pretty good at taking it by then.  

I liked the way Nicky would look at me. He wasn’t a hard nigga but he could’ve hung with som’a my peeps. I think he was ‘bout 28. Dark skinned, bald head with a nicely trimmed goatee. He had the hardest looking eyes though. They were dark brown and, if a nigga didn’t know him, they looked like he was mad all the time.  

But he’d look at me like I was his lady or something. Like I was the love of his life… and I was. Trouble was… I didn’t get that. I mean, at that age? Shit, I was all ‘bout the Benjamin’s, feel me?  

Nicky said I was the best of both worlds. A hard assed nigga he could roll with and the best fuck he’d ever had. Like I said, my li’l ass should’ve realized ol’ boy wasn’t throwing down all that shit just for the fuck. But you live and learn, right?  

Sometimes it’d take a little while for him to get all that dick of his inside. But Nicky was cool like that and always took his time.  

Once that nigga got in though, ah hell! He’d rock my world forever. All but stand me on my head, riding me like I was a rodeo bronco or something. Then he’d get to flipping me around. On my back, then on my side. Then he’d flip me on my stomach and that’s when I’d feel him trying to reach my fuckin’ tonsils, he’d go so deep.

But a nigga ain’t gon’ scream. Cain’t go out like that. Bite my lip, bite the pillow, whatever, but don’t scream.  

Yeah, but Nicky wasn’t ‘bout to give me a break. He’s panting in my ear and laid all on top of me and his hips is humpin’ like a dog on top of a bitch. We sweating and he’s grunting and shit and all of that fucking dick is lost up inside me. But my dick’s hard as a brick and I’m thinking, “he don’t hurry up, I’ma bust all over his bed”.  

Which I did, right when he started moaning and fucking me deeper than anybody’d ever did before. I swear that nigga felt like he was clean through to my windpipe, deep as he rammed it. Couldn’t help it, shit hurt so bad, I let out a little yelp.  

But then he kept stroking that dick and I went to wiggling and biting the pillow. He started moaning and I felt his dick swell, and then...

 

 

 

A young man with needs, Titus has a unique way getting them met.

 

 

 

 

Sometimes there's good times...

 

Had a dude used to like to jack me off all the time. At first I was like, huh? But you do whatever to get by, feel me? This was after I’d been locked up for a few months. My dumb ass had got into a fight with a security guard at a grocery store and the store pressed charges and shit. All my contacts was gone by the time I got out. People had moved, got locked up or died and I was really in a tight for a place to stay. Dude was cool with supplying the funds and shit, so I got cool with the jackin off thing.  

I met him at a Starbucks one lazy afternoon. This was a cool Starbucks with a lotta brothas and cute guys. I always go to the Starbucks cuz you meet more people with money and a place to stay than at the club and shit.  

I was chillin’, drinking an Iced Tea and Paul walks in. He looked thirtyish and he’s already going gray. It seems like all the people worked there knew him and they were all chatting it up and laughing and shit. I was high as a mutha fuck, so I had on shades and I saw him kept looking at me. After a while he comes over my way and takes a seat close by. Like I said, I was truly fucked up so my dumb ass went to smiling but I didn’t mean to. He saw me smile and that was all he needed.  

He comes over and starts talking. One thing leads to another and before I know it, I’m in his car, heading to his apartment. He kept saying he needed to get back to work and he had a 24 Hour Fitness shirt on. He was hella skinny and it made him look like a boy, cept for his face.  

We get to his apartment and he was all over me. I’m backing up, kinda surprised and he’s kissing all on my neck and reaching under my shirt. Back of my mind I’m thinking, “ah hell, this mofo gone wanna fuck,” but I’m waiting to see.  

His pad was small but nice. He had all the shit I’d want, TV, DVD player, music system, etc. His living room was so small, if you sat on the floor in front of the couch you could touch the TV cabinet with your feet. It was sorta long but narrow. I used to sit on the floor and change the channel with my feet cuz you couldn’t NEVER find the damn remote, lol.  

Soon as he got my pants off, he stared at my dick like it was God, or something. We were still standing in his living room but we never got to the room, I guess cuz he was in a hurry. He’s drooling at my dick and he starts feeling on it and looking at it like he was examining it or something. Like a doctor do when he be looking at yo’ shit.  

I kept waiting for him to suck it or something but he just kept playing with it, feeling on it and staring like he was in a trance or something. When he got down in front of it I started to relax some cuz I’m thinking, least he ain’t gone wanna fuck. I figured he was them kind that like to blow you and then that’s it. But he just stared at it.  

He stared at it for so long, I started to get a little worried. Then he walks me over to the couch and sat me down. I’m sitting there, high as fuck, that silly grin on my face and he gets between my legs and started stroking my shit.  

Was weird, him jackin’ me off cuz most niggas be wanting to slurp on that shit. At first my dick didn’t get up but he kept stroking it and working his hand up around the head and then my dick started leaking (like it always do) and he rubbed it all around and that made it feel good so my dick started getting hard.  

To be honest, Paul was real good at jackin you off. It’s like he studied that shit or something cuz he knew all the spots to hit and just when to hit them. Even with me high as fuck he had my shit standing straight up.  

I leaned back on the couch and let him do what he wanted. I figured I’d probably get a meal or something out of it. Like I said, it was still weird though, letting another man jack me off.  

He kept stroking and playing my wetness around the head and I felt that good nutt coming on. Couldn’t believe it cuz I didn’t think I could get off that way. He went to jacking it faster and my legs went to trembling and shit. I looked down and he was still staring at it, like he was waiting for a show or something. His hand’s flying up and down my pole and it’s sticking straight up.  

Bout ten minutes after we’d got at his place, I was shaking and huffing and his hand just made my shit bust. No lie! Nigga had me spurting like a teenager at his first strip bar or something.  

Soon as he saw me cum, he went to whipping on his shit like crazy. He never stopped staring at my dick while he jacked himself off. Like a few seconds after I came, he went to moaning and shaking and cum just was flying out his dick like skyrockets. We was both a mess.  

After that, he tells me I’m welcomed to stay and he went back to work. So funny the way niggas would leave me in their places. On da real, I’ve had more niggas that was just cool with me kickin’ it in their place and we’d just met. I don’t know, maybe I got a trusting face? Anyway, Paul was out the door.

 

 

 

 

And sometimes there's bad...

 

Must be something ‘bout me and the older niggas ‘cause I ain’t never got nobody under 25 that’d do for me like I like. I’ve been with a lot of niggas under 25 but most of the ones I ended up kicking it with was over 30.  

Alphonso must’ve been in his late 30’s. Hell, he might’ve been in his 40’s but he didn’t look it. I met him at the car wash one day. I was getting my ride cleaned and I guess I drew a lot of attention, a teen with a Lexus. But Alphonso actually came over and I liked his flow.  

We exchanged numbers and I started calling him on my celly for little things. You know, concert tickets or if I needed a ride somewhere and Nicky was tripping and wouldn’t let me use the car. Damn, if all these mutha fucka’s ain’t controlling. Even the nerdy ones. Especially the nerdy ones.  

Alphonso stayed in this nice apartment on the east side, by himself. He had a cat, which I thought was real cool and we’d take him with us everywhere. Anyway, Al, that’s what we called him, was really making the moves on me and I was liking it. He knew I was with a nigga but he was real cool about it and never pressured me to leave him. But he followed the rules, feel me? I mean, this nigga treated me like a king.  

Nicky was tripping, the longer I stayed with him and, like I said, I never realized the nigga was in love. But then he started snooping and he called Al’s number on my celly and shit got whacked.

“Who’s Al?” He accused, acting like I was his lady or something.


Made me mad and we started having these arguments. I knew Al would’ve let me move in, anytime I felt like it, but I didn’t want to lose Nicky. That’s when we started having the “angry sex”. That’s what I called it. I mean, when a nigga’s mad at you and the only way you can get some money, or weed or anything is if you let him fuck you, I call that “angry sex.”  

The worst was when I’d be all dressed for something I’d told him ‘bout, weeks before and then on the night I was supposed to go, he’d start trippin’.

“Goin’ to meet that nigga, huh?”

“’Don’t start Nicky, you ain’t had no problem with me goin’ out befo’.”

“You ain’t had no strange nigga’s name on you celly befo’.”

“You know everybody I talk to, huh?”

“Then who’s Al, Titus, who’s Al?” He’d usually be screaming by then. And I knew he was extra mad when he called me Titus ‘cause, I was T all the other times.

“I don’t be goin’ through your cell phone numbers. How ‘bout you let me check fo’ who you callin’?”

“Gon’ T! Here… Check!”

 

On and on it’d go until finally he’d tell me I wasn’t going nowhere till I gave him some. That first time, I was shocked as hell. Here I was, all geared up in my Tims, my Roca Wear jeans and T, hat sitting just right on my head and this nigga was talking ‘bout fucking.  

He took it right there, in front of the door. Just pushed me against it, pulled down my pants and stuck it in. I’m pounding against the door, getting my ass knocked back and wondering if my peeps is gon’ be able to tell I just got fucked?  

Sometimes he’d bend me over the couch and go for it. One time he threw me on the floor and we did it right there. He wouldn’t lube up and it always seemed like it took forever for him to cum.  

Pants’ round my knees and my shirt’s getting all wrinkled. We tussling like mud wrestlers or something and I’m hella mad. When I’d go to the bathroom to get cleaned up, my clothes would be all cockeyed and I’d be all wet back there, ‘cause, seem like he’d nutt extra hard when shit like that happened.  

Ever had a nigga on top of you and you know he’d just as soon strangle you? Was a real trip. Humiliating, actually. I wouldn’t even get hard when he did that and my shit always got hard, even when I didn’t want it to.  

Hell, you let a nigga ram nine and a half inches up you while he got you in a head lock. I doubt you’d get hard either.

 

 

 

But good or bad, he keeps looking...

 

 

 

 

When you’re young, and hungry, it’s funny the things you’ll do. That’s how this all started. Moms wasn’t worth shit, fucked up all the time on crystal and pops was already dead before I turned seven. No brothers and my only sister was ten years older than me and just as fucked up as mom on that shit.  

We couldn’t keep a place for over three months, it seemed and we was always moving. I got tired of it and was looking for a way out when I met Carlos. I know, his name sounds like he’s Mexican or something, but he was Black. Real Black. You know, deep dark Black.  

I call Carlos my first, even though me and my cousin messed around before we met. But that don’t count ‘cause, that’s my cousin and we never fucked. Carlos was my first nigga. The first to move me in, the first to take care of me, my first fuck, my first everything.  

Crazy thing ‘bout it, he was my cousin’s nigga. Him and my cousin Cedric had been kicking it for a few a while, first time I met him. Up until then, I thought Cedric was the only one liked them young, and that was because he was gay. But Carlos started jocking me from day one.  

When he saw me at my cousin’s pad that day, it was like he totally forgot about Cedric. But I was clueless, as usual. This nigga was buying me shit and doing things for me, like taking me to school and I ain’t picked up on nothing. Till Cedric tells me Carlos wanted to “do something with me”.  

Whatha fuck? I thought him and Cedric was together? I was flattered, an older guy like Carlos wanting to get at me, so I told him to set it up. 

Carlos wasn’t what you’d call good looking. Least, I didn’t think he was. His face looked older than most niggas his age with some of the biggest lips I’ve ever seen. And… he had a little dick. But the nigga had body. Pecs, a bomb ass six pack and shit. It’s what started me on liking body, I guess.   

We finally did get it together, I was really gushing like a school girl. I mean, damn, he didn’t look like the type who’d be getting it on with a kid. Carlos liked them young… real young.  

Nigga treated me like I was his lady or something. Used to swoop my little ass up all the time, take me with him to run his errands. I’d smoke his bomb assed weed and just ride. To the store, the auto repair shop, his barber. All the while, Carlos would be either looking at me with lust in his eyes or feeling me up on the ride.  

Anything I asked for, he’d buy for me. Chains for my neck with diamonds in it. Clothes, shoes, dining at nice restaurants. It was Carlos spoiled me for all the rest of the niggas. He was the first to “follow the rules”. Hell, he set up the rules.  

After he’d make his runs, he’d take my little narrow ass home and sit me on his dick. He wasn’t that hung but everybody knows… little dicks hurt more. I don’t know why but they just do.  

Every time he’d pull me down on his hard arrow, I’d squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip till it stopped hurting. In my young mind, I had to take the dick because Carlos had “paid” for it. He’d treated me to all these things and all he wanted was a little booty, it was the least I could do, feel me?  

So I’d straddle his dick, sit my little ass on his hard shaft and watch it disappear up my tight ass until I sat squat on his legs. Carlos would hold my narrow hips in his big hands and pull me up and down his length, his eyes on my body. He said I had the sexiest body he’d ever seen. Said it was like a little boy’s, whatever that meant.  

Up and down I’d ride until Carlos started grunting and bucking. His eyes would squeeze shut and I’d feel his dick swell inside me. Sometimes, I swear I could feel his shit squirting inside me. Maybe it was just the way his dick would pop, every time he shot, but it felt like I could feel it.  

I was in heaven. I had a nigga that cared about me. That bought me shit all the time. He even moved me in with him. I had all the weed I could ever want and all this ever cost was the occasional fuck. What more could a nigga ask for?

 

 

Follow him through his many "sexcapades" and maybe you'll "learn the rules."  

 

 

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