The Dealer (Patreon)

All characters are 18+

For as long as I could remember, we never stayed in one place for more than a year. My dad regularly switched jobs so my entire childhood was spent moving from one shit hole apartment to the next. To make matters worse, his jobs were always lousy which meant the only places we could afford were usually run down dumps in bad areas.

At eighteen, we'd moved to Ninth End, a place so riddled with crime that I'd heard about it years before we relocated across the country to actually live there. Thankfully, I only had to spend a few months in the high school there, and somehow managed to keep my head down and avoid the daily fights, thefts, shootings and muggings.

I rarely ever spent time with my dad. If he wasn't working he was out fucking some random chick, and if he wasn't doing that, he was getting drunk in some seedy bar somewhere. I wasn't too pushed on seeing him either. Years of uprooting me and destroying every friendship I ever had, had made me pretty bitter.

Like most eighteen-year-olds, sitting at home all day gave me little else to do but jerk off, watch endless television and smoke as much of my dad's stash of weed as I could get away with.

On one particular Friday morning, I checked his usual hiding spot and found that it was gone. Whether I'd smoked it all, or he had, I wasn't sure, but I'd gotten into the habit of smoking up early in the day, so this was now a problem.

I scoured the shitty apartment, pulling open drawers, searching his room, even emptying the ashtray to see what I could piece together, but my efforts were in vain, and after an hour of snooping, all I found was half a cigarette and two used condoms.

I stood on the creaky balcony and lit what I had. The street below was damp from the dull November rain, and had already become busy with gangs of young men and women loitering outside and causing trouble. I watched one young man in particular.

He was a black guy, with tight cornrows stuck to his head and looked to be just slightly older than me. His t-shirt was hanging down to his crotch, but I could see his trousers too, only because they seemed to hang around his knees rather than his waist.

As I smoked the half-cigarette, I found myself becoming increasingly interested in the happenings below me. The guy I'd been watching seemed to know every single person that walked by, shaking hands with almost all of them before returning to the gang of men at the corner. The more I watched, the more I realised that he wasn't simply shaking hands at all.

A young woman with a stroller walked up the street, she looked only eighteen or nineteen as well, and the man with the cornrows spoke briefly to her before disappearing and reemerging a moment later. The pair shook hands and she scurried off.

I wasn't dumb, and it was clear that they were selling drugs, but so far I hadn't seen a single person actually paying for them. I continued watching, trying to make sense of the transactions, but it was useless from up here.

I was angsty now, eager to start my day in the usual fashion but rather helpless too. I had no job which meant I had no money, and no money meant no weed. I stared back down at the young man and considered it.

He and his friends were the exact same type of people that I avoided on the street. I knew all about the level of gang activity on Ninth End, and it wasn't something that I ever wanted to find myself tangled up in.

As a white, skinny, anxious teen, I wasn't exactly 'well equipped' for street life, but what harm could it be to at least ask if I could buy some weed?

I found ten dollars in my dad's jacket pocket and another five in his drawer, and pulled on my tattered jacket. They couldn't kill me for simply asking, or so I hoped.

I journeyed down the dilapidated staircase, stepping over two sleeping homeless men as I did, until I pushed open the door onto the dreary, rainy street. Instantly, the stench of weed filled my nostrils and I followed it until I found the people I was looking for.

Cornrows glanced at me, and did a double take when I held his gaze. Was this what I was supposed to do? I felt my heart rate quicken.

"You good, bro?" He shouted over, and suddenly I wondered if this had been a huge mistake.

I opened my mouth to reply, but the words became lodged in my throat and I simply stared at him. A moment later, he and three other young men, all equally as intimidating, surged across the street.

Cornrows headed the gang, lifting his long t-shirt to reveal a handgun in the waistband of his jeans.

"You got a fuckin' problem, man?" He snapped, and my eyes widened in fear.

They were on me in seconds, ready to beat the living shit out of me, when finally my mouth cooperated with my brain, and I squealed out the word weed.

They all stopped, their fists balled and ready to strike, and then a roar of laughter sounded and I opened my eyes.

The three men who had joined Cornrows waved me away and returned to their corner, but the admittedly handsome young man remained and stared at me with a look of amusement in his eyes.

"How much weed you looking for?" He asked, his voice rough and cool.

I rubbed my face, trying to compose myself as I reached into my pocket and pulled out fifteen dollars.

"As much as this will get me" I said nervously, and handed him the cash.

He looked down at it and laughed, showing his teeth, some of which I now noticed were capped with gold.

"Alright" he nodded, "hang tight for me for a minute".

I felt a sense of relief as the young man jogged back over to the group. He spoke to them, causing some of them to turn in my direction, and returned a moment later.

"Fifteen dollars worth" he said, and stuck a joint between his lips, lighting it and inhaling deeply.

I waited for him to produce the bag, and got a face full of smoke as Cornrows blew it toward me, instead.

"There" he grinned "fifteen dollars worth".

I stood there confused for a moment, and then realised I'd been scammed.

"Can I have my money back?" I asked, trying not to sound as terrified as I was.

"The fuck you mean?" He snapped, spitting between his teeth onto the pavement right between my sneakers. "I just gave you what you asked for".

I glared at him, but I knew it was pointless to push the matter. Doing so would either get me killed or beaten, neither of which sounded like a great outcome.

"Whatever" I sighed, and turned to head back to the apartment.

"Wait up"

Cornrows jogged to catch up and handed me the joint he had just lit. I took it eagerly and he laughed.

"Fifteen dollars ain't getting you shit around here, boy" he smirked "add another fifteen and I'll hook you up".

"Thanks" I nodded, pulling on the joint, "I've no more money today though".

Cornrows studied me for a moment before scoffing.

"Bullshit" he grinned "a white boy like you? I bet you've got plenty of money".

"I live here, bro" I said, gesturing toward the battered block of apartments behind us, "you really think I have money?"

He glanced up at them and I quickly regretted telling him where I lived. He turned to look back at his friends and stuffed his hand inside his trousers. I watched curiously as he pulled out a rather large bag of weed, even more than what my dad usually brought home.

"You want this?" He asked, his voice now low and secretive.

"I don't have money, man" I told him again.

He stole another glance at the gang and nodded toward the apartment.

"Show me your place" he said, and started walking toward the door.

The idea of showing a complete stranger who had already shown me a gun, where I lived was not the smartest one I'd ever had, but what was he expecting to find there? I didn't have anything that I could trade for the weed, nor did we have anything worth stealing if that's what he was after.

I shrugged and he followed me back inside, over the homeless men and up to the door.

"I'm telling you man, I don't have anything" I told him as I pushed open the stained, cracked door.

"What's your name?" He asked me, looking around as we walked into the sorry excuse of a living room.

"Nathan" I replied.

"That's a white ass name" he laughed, and walked slowly around my living room, studying everything.

"I'm Curtis" he said without being asked, and I watched as he fell onto the sofa.

"Yeah, you poor" he laughed, looking around again, "like real fucking poor".

It didn't really bother me considering I already knew how broke we were, but I watched as he took the fifteen dollars back out of his pocket and left it on the table.

"Alright here's the deal, Nathan" he smirked, emphasising my name in a strange accent. "I'll hook you up if you hook me up".

I stared at him confused. I didn't have anything to hook him up with.

He looked up at me and grinned again.

"Weed for sex" he explained, and my brow lowered.

"I've got plenty of bitches" he told me, resting his feet on the old coffee table, "but I've always wanted a white boy".

I laughed, but Curtis remained stoic.

"Or not" he shrugged "I'm just tryna help".

"I'm not gay, bro" I told him, unsure if this was just a joke.

"You tryna say I am?" He snapped, his face becoming serious.

"No, no I don't mean that, it's just... I..."

"Honestly man" he scoffed, standing up, "it's no big deal".

I watched as Curtis began walking toward the door. I'd never even considered doing anything with a guy before, I hadn't even done anything with a girl yet, but free weed for something that nobody but him and I would ever know about?

"Wait" I said, and he stopped at the door.

"How much weed?"

Curtis turned back to me, a smile on his handsome face.

"How much sex?" He smirked, and I watched with a strange interest as he unbuttoned his jeans, and removed the gun.

"Wow, bro I was... I'm..."

"Relax" he grunted, and left it down beside him.

His pants fell to his ankles, revealing his dark, toned legs and a pair of loose fitting boxer shorts. I still couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"Knees" he said, pointing to the spot directly in front of him.

My mouth was dry and my heart was racing even faster than it had been on the street. Was I really about to do this for something as menial as a bag of fucking weed? Yes, yes I was.

I shuffled forward, a nervous sweat beginning to form on my forehead, and slowly got to my knees before him.

Curtis waited until I was in place before sliding his boxers down, and I watched in awe as the waistband trailed over the base of a long, black cock. He had a bush of dark pubic hair and his low hanging balls looked full and heavy.

"Suck it, bitch" he growled, and something about the way he spoke to me, caused a strangely pleasurable feeling inside.

I was breathing fast now, nervous and yet also excited. I could smell his ripe musk, and it instantly made my own cock twitch. Was I gay? I couldn't be, I'd never thought about another dude before.

I leaned my head closer, feeling the warmth from his naked midsection, and awkwardly tongued his long, flaccid cock into my mouth.

Curtis groaned above as his cock head became moist with my spit. The taste filled my mouth instantly, a subtly salty flavour, though not bad at all. I felt his rod twitch as it trailed across my tongue, and gagged as it pushed further into my throat.

The young man gasped as he became fully erect in my mouth and a moment later, his hand took me by the back of the head and pulled me deeper down his shaft. I gagged again, panicking for a moment until he let me up, and then dragged me back down.

I had no idea how large he was, but judging by my own cock, which was six inches on a good day, his had to be eight or nine at least.

I struggled to take half of it, but Curtis was by no means a gentle lover, and continuously thrust deep into my neck until he appeared to break my gag reflex.

"There's a good bitch" he snarled, grabbing a handful of my hair and slamming his huge, wet cock into me. "Suck that cock you fucking, slut!"

My own tool was now digging into my underwear as a sharp taste filled my mouth. Curtis was leaking pre-cum, coating the back of my throat in it and making it easier for him to slide every inch of his rod inside.

My nose buried into his bush, and the sloppy sound of wet throat fucking and gurgling echoed around the small hallway.

Curtis pushed me back against the wall, shoving every inch of his prick into my throat again, but now I was unable to back up at all as my head was trapped between his dick and the wall behind me.

"Strip" he gasped, after a particularly brutal throat fucking that left me with tears and spit dripping down my face.

"W... What?" I choked breathlessly, and felt a firm smack across my face.

"Strip, bitch!" Curtis hissed, and began dragging my jacket off me.

Part of me was nervous, but the other part was ravenously excited. I never thought that being treated like such a... Slut, would be so fucking hot. I quickly shed my t-shirt, and awkwardly stripped from my trousers, shoes and socks, until I was left in only a pair of dull white briefs.

Curtis grabbed me by the hair, dragging me across the dusty wooden floor on my knees and into my dad's bedroom.

His large erection swung back and forth, sending his juices spraying everywhere as he launched me onto the bed and straddled me instantly. I was face down now, and felt my hair being yanked backwards.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard, slut" Curtis snarled, dropping my head and grabbing my plump buns through the thin material.

I wasn't sure how I felt about the idea of Curtis' snake being rammed up my ass, but suddenly I didn't care, and not only did I not care, but something inside me actually wanted it.

I waited for him to pull them down, but instead, he squeezed my cheeks again and a loud rip sounded. My briefs remained on, though now there was a large hole right where he wanted it.

I grabbed my dad's pillow, biting down on it as I felt Curtis' slick cock head push between my cheeks. I felt his body weight on me as he pushed his hand down on my shoulder, and used his other hand to position himself.

A moment later I cried out into the pillow as my sphincter burned and spread wide for the thick cock.

"Yeah, cry you little slut" he snarled, and slammed his hips forward, sending three or four inches of his meat into my bowels.

I groaned with a mixture of pain and pleasure as Curtis pushed deeper. For a moment it felt like the young man was tearing me open, and then came a sudden and mind numbing pleasure that I had never felt before.

There was no way to tell how much of his cock was left, but it seemed never ending. I felt his knees either side of my legs, and finally, with a feeling of bursting fullness, I felt his balls and pubes against my skin.

"You've got the perfect fuck hole for me, slut" he hissed, grabbing my hair again.

I felt him pull his hips back, and his pole slid almost entirely out of me, and then I screamed into the pillow as every inch ripped back inside, slamming against my internal organs and causing a wave of brutal pleasure.

"Oh yeah, keep screaming, bitch".

Curtis did it again, and again, and again, until my screaming was replaced with frantic moaning as he fucked me in a manic rhythm. The pain had subsided, and I found myself being overcome with an immense arousal.

My cock, which was pushing painfully into the mattress, ignored and hidden, felt as though it would explode with cum at any minute.

Curtis was gasping above, the sound of his hips smacking my plump ass echoed through the bedroom as the two of us got closer and closer to climax.

"Aw fuck yeah" he moaned out, quickening his pace, "oh you're such a good little slut!"

He grunted loudly, his fingers now digging into my waist as he fucked me frantically, and just as I felt myself reach the brink of orgasm, Curtis began to shoot his hot, thick load deep into my bowels.

I felt it spill inside me, pooling up instantly and dripping into the deepest, darkest crevices of my rectum. He continued pumping, unloading every drop of sperm from his huge rod until finally his balls were empty, and his cock slipped out of my wrecked hole with a wet squelch.

"Fuck" he gasped breathlessly as I lay there, hornier than I had ever been in my entire life.

I heard something plastic rustling, and felt something somewhat sharp sliding into my used, wet asshole. I didn't move, I couldn't move, the pleasure from the brutal fucking was still coursing through my entire body.

Curtis got up without a word and walked over to my dad's bedside locker. I watched him curiously as he opened it and pulled out some wipes, cleaning up his wet, cum streaked cock before dropping the wipes onto my mostly naked body. How did he know where to find them?

"Next time you want weed" he said, still breathless as he dressed again, "come find me downstairs".

I nodded into the pillow as I watched him walk to the door.

"You should teach your dad a thing or two" Curtis smirked as he disappeared down the hallway, "you suck cock way better than he does!"

The door opened and closed, and I lay there, my eyes wide, my heart racing and my hole squeezing around the roll of plastic that he had slipped inside me. I fingered it out, staring at the bag of weed, and instantly recognised the small logo at the bottom as the exact same one on my dad's bags.