dripped sweat.

when the last episode of will and grace left my screen i found myself sitting on my bed, staring at the computer screen...bored. this was the times of the day/night i hated most.

doing this during the day was cool because there were options after the good shows went off, but at night the options seemed to disappear with the credits.

approximately 46.5 minutes before my face became fixed on a screen saver, i somehow managed to finish off half of an apple pie and a pint of soy milk i brought a while back. thank God soy milk doesn't expire, i guess. the rumbling in my stomach this time had nothing to do with hunger, but everything to do with me walking that thin line between 'skinny boy' and 'nigga, put your shirt back on.'

my eyes made a move for the closet and located my three-year-old sauconys and my hoody.
i got up, adjusted my dick in my sweatpants, put on my sneakers and my hoody and made a move for the door.

i adjusted my dick because i began scrolling through all the emails i had in my 'biznass' folder. emails with dick attachments from seemingly millions of anonymous potentials.

outside was cool, dark and empty.
the streets were mute and the wind couldn't seem to muster up a whisper.
i put in my headphones and started my walk toward the park's 1.4 mile trail.

the park was just as empty as the streets i'd seen on my short trek en route.

i was wrong.
i hadn't even made it a half a mile when in the corner of my eye i noticed something bouncing.
then i noticed who was bouncing it.

i stood there for ten seconds and the words of the ying yang twins popped in my head:
a closed mouth don't get fed.
i was hungry.

'you ball?' he asked. it was too cold to be outside with no shirt on, but thank God this dark brown, hairless boy found a reason to remove his.

'i mean...i can make a few lucky shots.'

i placed the ipod on the bench beside his duffle and motioned for the ball.

the score was 9 to 7. he was ahead and i was having too much fun.
my shirt came off around point 4.
well...my hoody came off. i kept on my white t.

i found every excuse to guard him from behind, and he seemed to find every excuse to take forever to make a shot.
this game quickly became more than who won.
i think somewhere around the time i was lucky enough to level the playing field, we both made the decision that we'd both win in the end.
at least i hoped.

he won.

a few cars whipped past 500 feets away on the street and there was silence again.
i began dribbling the ball as he leaned against the post playing with the string on his shorts, looking at the ground and every once in a while stealing a peak at me.

'air ball' he said as he caught the ball i purposely tossed at the basket weakly.

'it's cool. i missed on purpose.' i was walking over to get the ball. he placed in under his foot.

'no more basketball tonight, sir' he said. he looked up at me and smile.

we stood 2 feet apart with nothing between us but the air that was becoming cooler as the sweat began drying.
my lungs pulled in more air than ever before and i could smell the acqua di gio he sprayed somewhere, some hours ago.

before i realized it, i had found where he sprayed the cologne.
my tongue found that all his teeth were in place and perfectly straight.
my hands found that my eyes were correct: he had no underwear on and the movement in the shorts earlier wasn't the wind.

against the post, i discovered new territory. i became christopher columbus under the court light that flickered in the dark.

this was something for the books. something for the journal. something so exciting, i couldn't make it past two minutes of warmth and tongue flicks on my dick.
he remained squatted, his back against the metal post, my knees about to give in. my head looking around in case the streets changed their minds and decided to fill up.

'i'm about to...'

and he sped up, not even giving me a second thought...
and suddenly the basket didn't seem so out of reach and the flickering light didn't seem so dim.
and not a drop touched the asphalt.

his dark gray, watering eyes across from mine, and his smile unlike any other.
the veins in his arm turned me on even more as he grabbed my right hand and placed it on the part of his shorts under which his dick found refuge.

i attempted to grip it, but my hands were too small.

'next time we play, i'll let you win. and this will be yours.'

i smiled and pulled him in closer as his eyes followed the last drop of sweat from the tip of my nose to the blacktop.
'next time we play, there will be no ball.' and i slowly slid my hand from his dick to my sweats to comfortably adjust my nuts.

we headed in seperate directions, him dribbling his ball, smiling back at me.
me, blasting common's 'testify' in my ears, putting his name in my phone.

yeah...
last night i dripped sweat.
tomorrow night i think i'll do the same.

i was kinda disappointed.

on the nights when most of the possibilities have been exhausted i log onto my yahoo messenger account to exhaust the final possibility.

my buddy list consists of guaranteed dick swallowers and riders and the occassional bed mate.
apparently something was happening this night worldwide because there were only three buddies signed in.
two had the pleasure of tasting the natural juice my body created when overly excited.
the other had the pleasure of sitting on the stiffness and rocking back and forth while his eyes rolled to the back. this one claimed to have loved me at some point.

i summoned one of the dick swallowers and hoped for the best.

me: what's up?

d.s.: sitting here. was just thinkin' about you.

me: true. come over.

d.s.: i'm about to get dressed to go out.

me: damn. i need my dick head in your mouth with your tongue swirling around the hole.

d.s.: fuck! you making me wanna say fuck this party. you wanna see me on camera?

me: fuck it. i guess. if i have no choice.

the camera came on.

the zipper was being pulled down and suddenly i remembered why he and i hooked up seven times already.

never have i sucked his dick, but everytime he pulled it out i had every want and a small need to do so.
i could give a shit about this brown skinned, five foot four inch almost-pretty boy, but i was in love with his nine.five inch dick that had a tendency to stare me down on command. i mean...it was beautiful.

he began stroking. i never knew how he did it, but his dick always had a natural shine to it which made it look lubricated at all times, making my mouth water and my dick jump in my boxer briefs, leaving a crusty cloud near the dick hole.

my dick began knocking on the zipper of my pants, but i wasn't in the mood to pull it out and mock his actions. i was in a staring mood.

with each down stroke i fell more and more in love with the muscle his hand held.

his speed increased and each time the fingers passed the head, the dick seemed to grow more and more.

and my dick refused to cease.
my breathing was insane and a wet spot began to appear just below my zipper that i was debating opening.

he type:

d.s.: i'm about to cum.

and just like that, his hand tightened around the brown steel and the lava began flowing.
i imagined him laying on his back, and my hand replacing his squeezing the life and juice that remained from him.

and watching his face go numb.

he typed:

d.s.: i gotta go wash up, man. hope you enjoyed it. luv ya.

i wrote back:

me: it was cool. be easy.

and my dick seemed to wither away from the zipper.
and i closed the laptop and then my eyes.

so last night i was kinda disappointed.

made her dizzy.

she sat there playing that shy role.
i saw her hands jitter a few times when she attempted to turn the channel, afraid to talk.

in my thoughts she was already naked on my bed with her knees pointing to the celing fan and her eyes bearing witness to whatever was taking place on the other side of her eyelids.

but in reality she was beside me sitting straight up with her eyes on the television - fully clothed.

i made a move for the kitchen just so i'd have an excuse to come back into the room and lock my bedroom door and turn out the light.

i did just that.

everything happened in a blur of motion: i locked the door, hit the switch and my hand was on her bra hooks and my lips on her neck. all i could hear were sighs of relief. she loved it.

i've been with many women who could give a shit if i licked the nipples, areolas and breasts all together, but this one moved as though my tongue created nerves on her titties.

'shhhh. don't wake up homeless motherfuckers down the street,' i told her.

i created a maze on her belly, made of wet spots and fingerprints and it disappeared under her panty line.

then the panty line disappeared under my bed, to be found later, after a hot shower and a lie i always told moments after the screams and moans: 'i should be free in a couple says. call me.'

justin timberlake's new album and a black love inscent took up just as much room on my bed as we did.
between her fingers were my egyptian cotton sheets and a piece of the matching pillow.

between my top teeth and my bottom lip was her clit with my tongue writing her name in cursive on the pulsing flesh.

a chorus of 'right there's' and too many 'oh my fucking goodness's' passed and my tongue was tickling her ear while my dick tickled the back of the pink abyss.

'please don't stop. please don't stop'

i had every intention to follow her instructions, but this was different. this was new pussy.
my dick hadn't learned the curves, tightness or the wetness of these walls and was about to mark it's territory for later return.

'i'm cumming,' she screamed from beneath the pillow she held tightly over her face.

and in silence i came.
not even a shake or shiver.

and before pulling out i decided i'd have to return.

she lay there. the pillow still on her face with her arms reaching for me as i made my way to the bathroom to wipe off my dick.

i helped her dress in silence. i had fifteen minutes before the grocery store visitor would pay me another visit.

as i walked her to the door, she let out a sigh - and then: 'damn. that tongue and that dick got me feeling dizzy.'

'i know,' i said. 'i should be free in a couple days. call me'

yeah. last night i made her dizzy.

leaned against a wall.

so last night i leaned against a wall in my living room and almost died.

she never showed up like she had promised me she would, so i sat at the dining room table picking over a dried out filet of whiting and sipping wine through a straw while j. holiday made his voice rise and fall.

i was pissed.

between slurping the last drop of pinot from the flute and tuning out the guy with the panty-dropping voice,, my hand found it's way to my zipper. to the dick hole. to the dick.

how sad would this night end if i began stroking my erection at my dinner table over a piece of dried fish and few african violets?

i stood up. i'm not sur eif it was laziness or pure love of my dick, but i let it swing as i walked to my silenced phone and began cruising the texts for a certain message i hoped would still be there.

'i hope you don't mind me going off subject, but i thought i'd hit you up. you and me should kick it sometime soon. hit me up if you down for it.'

and like that, the promise-breaker was forgotten and this messenger was the thought of the night...and if shit goes right...the morning.

i responded to the 3 day old message.

after the alarm beeps, doorbell buzzes, and mandatory exchanges of 'hello' i found myself pressed against a wall, his tongue pressed against my teeth and my dick pressed against the inside of my jeans, wishing i would have left it out.

my breath felt short each time he flicked his tongue on my ear lobe.
my hand felt small each time it gripped his dick through his pants.
my heart almost exploded.

i blinked. when my eyes were opened, i realized my shirt lay on the back of the recliner and my pants were under the couch. my socks were still on and my boxer briefs were between his teeth, slowly descending to the hard wood floors.

my back found unfamiliar spots on the wall and arched with the coolness of them. the only light shining existed from the other side of the partially opened blinds. i needed someone outside to see this, because i needed this to be real.

the heat escaping from his mouth and his body made me shut my eyes and remember everything that's good in life and hope for everything good to come.

the head of my dick found it's way through the entrance of my mouth and went straight for the back. repeatedly. any flies that hung around, sitting on the walls would have figured i was an absolute dummy. all i could say was 'damn.'

a small puddle of saliva began gathering on the floor as he took control of what i gave him full ownership of for a limited time.

i wanted him to have hair so i could grab a hold of something. so i beat on the wall a few times.

he began picking up speed, sucking and sliding my dick in and out to a non-existent beat.
he began swirling around the head, then take it all in.

how did he know this was what i loved?

my knees began to wobble and my voice began to faulter and i was no good.

'i'm close.'

he kept going as though he hadn't heard me.
i grabbed his shoulder and squeezed and i created a flood in the heat of his mouth.

i stood there as if pinned between a tree and a 15-passenger van.
this gorgeous black man with the body of a prison yard god slid my dick from his mouth after his tongue searched for anything extra he may have forgotten.

my heart may have exploded.

my right leg gave out and the two of us found ourselves eye-to-eye.

this was my first time seeing his eyes.
this much, i regretted.

me leaning against the wall with my dick in his mouth was beautiful
but me on my knees looking him in the eyes was love.
damn.

last night i leaned against a wall and almost died.