RIXHARD

I write about freak shit. Taboo shit. Mostly black but I venture off.

[rixhardwrites]

Don't Worry Bout Me

By RIXHARD

I never thought that I would have a robbery butt naked in my own apartment. It was nighttime, a nigga was horny, and I had nothing better left to do than jack off to some RocksBoys or MyVidster. MyVidster always has the best girl blowjobs online, even though those ads take the life outta me to get to the video. But anyways, I got to work.

I was watching this girl give a guy head outside of a playground and I immediately started jerking off. The way the girl’s mouth stroked back and forth on that long, dark cock just did it for me. I just couldn’t help moving off the sofa in my living room. Minutes after I started leaking precum from my dick, I heard these odd vibrations comin from outside. Car vibrations. The car vibrations you hear from a Hellcat or some muscle car. I immediately stopped my sweet video and listened.

The thing is the previous tenants moved out a month ago from the upstairs apartments, so there was no telling who could be parking near my car. I didn’t bother to get up and investigate, cuz if I did go to the back and put my clothes on…well, I don’t know; I didn’t feel like putting them on right now. A few seconds later, I heard the engine turn off and these two doors open and slam shut. Barely any footsteps made when they came to my door. Well, at least I thought they were going through my door.

Instead, they broke through my window, prying it up with a butter knife, and climbing through where my kitchen is. I wasn’t shocked or scared; I immediately just crossed my arms in disbelief like “These niggas here.” When they saw me with a dick standing forward in their eye area, the main man dressed in all black stepped back and said, “Oh, shit!” The other two with masks on just came in and stared at me.

“So what y’all came in here for,” I asked them.

The one in front immediately pulled his glock out and pointed it in front of me. He told me, “Stand up against the wall, bitch!”

I was already right beside the wall in front of my dining table, so I just playfully put my hand on the wall and leaned like Bugs Bunny does with his carrot. I already didn’t have nothing in my hands, so I couldn’t defend myself. The guy just shook his head and beckoned the gang to head to my bedroom. The second guy tried to avoid looking at me again, but when the last guy passed me, he side-eyed me and mumbled under his breath, “Pussy nigga.”

“Back to you, hoe,” I said back enough for him to hear it.

He stopped and turned around towards me, staring a deep hole in my face. I played the same game with him, creeping in a sly smile with it. Eventually, he went on with his partners exiting the room. I loved showing how confident I was towards these niggas. You think I’m scared of looking at a gun. The only reason I complied to them is because I want them to find that bag of counterfeit cash I had stashed by my bed.

It only took them about two minutes to go and find the stash and leave back out the room. They didn’t say another word to me or look my way again when they headed for the front door. All except for the last one again, who gave me a quick 5-second look while walking with his musketeers. I could tell he was fine as fuck by his eyes, all soft and innocent while he put on a front. He probably didn’t expect to see anyone naked in his robbing space. None of them did.

I heard the Hellcat start back up and screech out the driveway. Rookie robbers at best; I’ve dealt with those kind before. That’s exactly why I did that fake bag trick, because niggas never know when they smelling fake dough. Unless you’re into Math and Accounting. Now where was I? Oh yeah, back to MyVidster.

Fast forward to today, I’m currently in the shower washing away all of this morning’s residue. I couldn’t really sleep last night knowing that my house was just broken into. It’s like a layer of privacy just got stripped away from me, but the crazy thing is I allowed it nonchalantly. I just needed to get my mind away from the shit. Unfortunately, I can’t. I hear some knocks at the front door overbearing the sprinkling water from the head. I turn it off, get out the tub, and wrap myself in a towel this time with my underwear underneath. I don’t want it to be a family member seeing my snake out the hole.

“Just a minute,” I call while opening the door up. I check the time on my phone: 9:37. Who could it be? Before I go to the door, I check outside for any cars beside mine. No cars parked there. I ask, “Who is it?”

No answer. Just silence and a few leaves rustling. A part of me listens to my parents and their rule of not opening the door up for strangers. Another part of me says “fuck it” and just open up the door to peek through. I’ll just go with the latter to get it over with. The moment I open the door up, I’m welcomed by the same fine dude from last night. You know, the one that called me “pussy nigga”. He’s holding the same bag with the fake cash inside, wearing an all-purple jacket and jogger pants. He tells me lowly, “Turn yo lamp off.”

I comply by flipping the switch for the outside light and he comes in, pushing in the weed smell lingering on him. The moment I close the door, he drops the bag on the floor and clutches his glock in his pocket. “You think we stupid or some shit,” he asks me.

“Not really,” I reply with a little smirk on my face.

“Where the money at, nigga?” He’s ready to bring the gun out of his pocket at this point. I’m not impressed by it, though.

“What makes you think that I have money to begin with?”

He finally brings the glock out of his jacket pocket, taking the safety off. “I ain’t here to play no games, boy. Where the money at?”

“You came here to shoot me, or did you come here to fuck me, Carston?” I threw him off by saying his name out loud. Did I mention that I heard one of his boys call his name out while they were in my bedroom? Yep, his name is Carston, which gives me the upper advantage of using it on him.

Carston

“Ay, don’t be callin’ my name out like that,” he tells me. “Who told you that?”

“Nobody. I just know info.”

At that moment, he steps closer and points the gun right at my head. One thing that pisses people off is if you got papers on them that you know would incriminate them at some point. For me, I don’t care to incriminate anyone, as long as it’s not dealing with family. And if it gets to that point, they’ll already be dead. “Nigga, I’m done playin’ games with you. Matter of fact, I been done. Tell me where yo muthafuckin’ money at before I off yo ass.”

“What happened to your homeboys? Why aren’t they here?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“You must wanted to see me for yourself. To get another good look at me.”

He presses the gun harder on me. “Nigga, cut the gay shit and tell me where the…” Before he could get his sentence out, we both hear several knocks on the door. I point to the kitchen where he can hide and he takes the gun off my head to go to that area. I go ahead and open the door back to see who it is. It's a black police officer, young too.

"Hey, sir. How are you doing tonight," he asks.

I almost hesitated out of nervousness from Carston getting caught, but I keep it cool. "I'm good, officer. How are you?"

"I'm doing well. The reason why I'm here is because I'm looking for three black men going around the city robbing places, and the Sugarwood Hills were one of the vicinities they were located last. Have you seen ant signs?"

"No, officer. I didn't know there were any in my area," I lie. "I checked the news earlier to see if there was a shooting of any kind, but it sounded like it was outside Sugarwood."

"Like at a gas station or something?"

"Might've been a gas station or the local Valvoline. It sounded east from here."

"Gotcha gotcha," the policeman nods. "Well, if you hear or see anything around this area, please let us know. These people are armed, so be on the lookout for anything suspicious."

"Will do, sir."

"Alright. You have a good night now."

"You too." I watch as he walks down the sidewalk and stays on the trails to the next set of apartments. He is finally out of sight, giving me the cue to close the door and tell the purple boy. "Coast is clear. They're out looking for y'all."

He peeks out the corner and comes to my side. "Who was it?"

"City police," I responded. "They were going door-to-door asking me about three robbers."

"Shit, forreal?"

"Forreal."

He rubs his face a bit and walks to my big window with the curtain to look outside, probably checkin to see if the coast was clear. "Yo, the block too hot now. Damn, man."

"What's wrong?"

"I see the po right up the street. No tellin how long they gon be searchin'. Man, I need to catch up with my bros, dawg." He pulls out his phone and starts using it. A second later, he's putting it up to his ear calling someone. I just wait at the table, towel still around my waist and all. He was wasting my time. While all this was going on, I could've easily changed into my night gear (or just sat butt-naked again) and watch some shows on Hulu.

"Ay, G," he says over the phone. "Look, the block too hot right nah, I'm gon be a little late getting over to y'all…Nawl, I ain't got it yet." He looks at me when he made that statement, knowing that me and him got unfinished business. He goes back to lookin at the floor, saying, "I don' need nothin. Like I said, I can handle it…Aight, y'all hold it down. And keep birdin." He hangs up the phone and looks back outside. Then, he looks straight at me. At that moment, I'm thinkin that he's gonna corner me again with that gun, but no. He's just…lookin.

"Is everything alright," I ask him to break the dead air.

"I don get you…at all," he tells me. "Why you end up hiding me from the police?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. I don’t need to see another nigga on the news." I've seen too many of my friends and family end up on the news whether they shot or going to jail. It's bad for my mental already to see this every time I'm walking out the house. Besides, I want to build bonds rather than make foes anyway. I get up and head to the fridge to offer him somethin. "You need something to eat or drink? Anything?"

"Just gimme water," he says while eyeing outside again. I bring him out a chilled bottle of water from the fridge and walk over to give it to him. He grabs it and opens it up to sip it.

"You can chill out here if you like," I suggest to him. "I got space."

He looks me up and down and says, “Hell nawl. I ain’t hangin here wit you.”

“Then what are you doing? You didn’t even rob me yet.”

“Nigga, shut the fuck up before I clock yo ass.” You know what, I’m done with it. I just shake my head and walk back to the back of my bedroom room, leaving him up there to observe or whatever Sherlock move he’s doing. He calls out to me, “Ay, boy. Ay!” I could hear his footsteps pacing towards mine in the hallway. Once I reach the bedroom, he’s right behind me with his glock behind my head. “Don’tchu dare pull that shit up on me again. Turn yo ass around!”

I turn around with the utmost nonchalance and he slams the door behind him. This was getting me hard, no lie. “Why can’t I just go in my room and chill?”

“I don’ trust you yet. I don’ trust nobody around this block. I just get my money and go, which is what I need from you right now.”

“You didn’t come here for just that, Carston.”

“What I tell you bout usin my name, bitch?” If he really wanted to shoot me, he would’ve went ahead and taken the safety off, then shot me point blank. The way he got glimpses of me yesterday and today, the way he looks at me period, tells all I need to know.

“If you wanna fuck me, just fuck me,” I tell him. I was serious too.

“On I, you gay as shit. You a fuckin faggot tellin me that shit. The fuck you on?”

“I’m gon be on you in a minute.” I grab his dick for a split-second which makes him flinch back.

“Ay, bruh. Back the fuck up, I ain’t playin’.”

“I ain’t playing either. I know you want me.” I manage to grab his dick again and he flinches back another time. He grabs my neck and pins me with my back against the wall. Then, he brings the gun to the side of my lips. I never tried this kink before, and I never felt better doing it with this piece of chocolate.

“You ‘bout to be fuckin offed in a minute. You hear me, nigga?!” he yells at me through his teeth. “Where the fuckin’ money at?” He presses the gun harder on my mouth. It hurts me a little bit but I enjoy this pain. Soon, he presses his dick right up against my hard dick. His isn't all the way hard, but it was getting hard by the minute after I had stroked it a few times. I know he loves it.

"Fuck me then, Carston," I say. I then start licking on his gun, sucking on it like it's his cock. I'm normally not the one to suck on things often unless it's coochie, but he was an exception. I'd do anything to this chocolate nigga. I look back at him and I see his eyes are focused on me sucking on his gun. He's definitely liking this tease; just playin hard to get. I slyly work my hand down to his crotch again, but this time he doesn't flinch. He just ends up lickin his soft-lookin lips while I'm feeling on it, making it rock hard.

The moment I stop licking his gun and lean in closer to kiss on those lips, he backs back. "Whoa, nigga. What the fuck?"

"What's the matter? Went too fast for you?"

He paces around in my room, rubbing his face and grabbing on his hard cock. Now I'm starting to feel guilty for him, but I'm not sure why. He came here to rob my place at a time where I could be spending some quality TV time with myself. Like my feet still ache from yesterday. As a human though, I’m tapping into somebody’s uncharted territory that they probably haven’t explored yet. Hell, he probably is straight and bicurious. I just have to track back a bit.

“Yo, my fault for…tryna turn you on and stuff,” I reluctantly apologize. “How much money you need?”

I start heading to my closet, pulling out this old shoebox where I keep the majority of my stash in envelopes. In one of the envelopes, I held about a good $10,000 from investments in stock. Yes, I do stocks leisurely when I’m not working my media marketing job. You’re probably wondering what the fuck is wrong with me for willingly giving a stranger some cash. I don’t do this to every stranger; I’m here to do this to Carston.

“Ay,” he tells me quietly while shaking his head.

“Oh, someone’s outside?”

“Nah I mean, don’t worry about it.” Now I’m really confused, but at the same time I had this feeling that he wasn’t gonna steal anything from me. So I just put the money back in the box and close the closet up. “You different, I jus know that.”

“How,” I ask him.

Before he answers my question, his phone rings again and he looks down at it. “Shit,” he mumbles. “I gotta answer this. Hol on.” He exits the room and answers in the hallway. “Yo…I mean, I ain’t left yet. The block still hot…Hell naw. I told y’all I already got the money. I jus need to keep the nigga hostage til the po go on…What the fuck I tell y’all. I said I’ll handle it! Damn!” He hangs up the phone and comes back in my room with an irritated look on his face.

“Everything alright?”

He hesitates for a split-second and replies, “All good.” I could tell that he was lying through his eyes. I don’t know him well enough, but I’m good at learning body language quick. It’s especially apparent if his eye contact is off a bit. “I’ma head out tho.”

“Everything gonna be alright? The police cleared out?”

“Don’t worry bout me.” That’s the last thing he says before he walks up to the front area. He opens my door and makes it out with no police lights or policemen in sight. I hate I didn’t even get a kiss from him before he left out.

Oh well, it’s been a long night anyway. I look at the bag of counterfeit money that he dropped down an hour ago and peek inside. Some object is sticking out from under some of those fake stacks. A small cactus with a note attached to it, saying: you saved but you aint safe. yo brother still owe us. So it’s Oday that got me into this.

Copyright (c) 2023 All rights reserved

[rixhardwrites]

Leopard Tears (Part 3)

A couple of days later, I eventually met up with Nathan again to mingle with him about more stuff. We just pretty much asked each other a lot of questions about our favorite things. What shows we liked to watch, what foods we crave eating, what our home life was like. Nathan’s interests were pretty much in the same vein, but his home life differed greatly from mine, which I was totally prepared for.

For starters, he was raised in a majority-white suburb with his mother and father. His mother works as an at-home consultant while his father works as executive at a production company called Ale Griffin Entertainment. If it wasn’t for his baseball dream, he would become co-partner of the company, which I don’t think any typical only child would want. There was a moment in time where I wanted to work for my father in his music shop. Collecting and listening to the vinyl records, sifting through rare classics like the first Illmatic CD print. I’m forever grateful I didn’t go down that route, even if the vinyl’s grooves were slick and devine.

It’s been a couple hours by now, a portion of it spent eating subway sandwiches and the rest of it spent just talking about our past lives. Nothing was too opinionated with the both of us and majority of our interests really linked. There are countless times within the conversation where I get excited when he says stuff like “I still watch Spongebob from time to time”. Hey, you cannot deny the quality of that show. We also both aren’t fond of the later seasons. So, here we are just walking the plaza down to his next class. He had his hands in his pockets listening to what I explaining about my art process. “My process of art is pretty random in a sense. One day, I find myself working by splashing a can of paint on a canvas. Other days, I start with a streak and then build from there.”

“That’s really cool, bro. I need to see that artwork in person one of these days. You know, just to see your process.”

“Oh, sure. You can come see it anytime. I love sharing art with people.”

“Where do you live?”

“You know these apartments called the Northends?”

“The ones up the street over there?” He pointed his thumb behind him to the direction where I live.

“Yep. I live in Apartment 12B, and that’s like the first section to the right side.” We walked in front of the P. Langston building of science where his class was located. I know I probably had to work on the project once I got home, but seeing how Nathan asked where I live, he might try to visit me after his practice. “Dang. It seems like we walked here quick. I swear, the plaza feels like it gets shorter by the minute.”

“Yeah, we’re so used to walking on it we got those roadrunner legs. But hey, I appreciate the walk and talk, man. One more class and then I’m off-scot free. Well, until practice.” Another fist bump to both of our hands.

“Oh, yeah. Good talk, good talk, dude. Hope your practice goes well for tonight. Land the pitches, get bitches. I’m just playing.” He cackled so hard at my joke he almost fell over. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you—see you later,” he struggled to utter. He could barely catch his breath even after going up the steps into the building.

I was heading back up the plaza the opposite way to go to my car. All I needed was a good rest before any other event, and plus this Mississippi heat is draining me. Coming from the left side, I saw Jaycen coming towards me. He was wearing his dark hoodie with a pair of shorts and compression pants. I almost didn’t notice that it was him, wearing all that ominous gear like he tryna rob someone. He spoke in a low but assertive tone. “Why are you not answering my calls, Lucky?”

I turned to him and lied with a straight face. “I had to restart my phone. It was acting up the day before.”

“Why didn’t you call me back? I told you I needed to tell you something important.” He looked around the plaza and noticed that the students were getting out of their classes. “Come with me.”

Honestly, I can never tell what is roaming in his mind. He has always been hard to pinpoint ever since I took that World Lit class with him. However, I always knew that within his eye contact he has taken an affection towards me. He could denounce as many times he wants to with a girl and all that. He can’t deny what we did that night when he visited my apartment. And I don’t even like flinging with people who are in relationships.

He ended up taking me into an empty bathroom up some stairs. We went to the very back of the bathroom so that nobody near the door can hear the convo. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

“Is it true that you do porn?”

Oh, that’s what he was trying to tell me. I wouldn’t call it…well, I guess it is that. My throat tightened up a little bit but I told him the truth. “Yes, I do.”

He looked so disappointed in me. He rubbed his face and turned towards the wall. “You know I don’t like you doing that shit. What made you even think about considering that?”

“Why does it matter to you, man? You have a whole girlfriend that you were with. You should just focus on her.”

“We broke up during the pandemic.”

Damn. I didn’t even put two and two together. During our break-off, he said he needed to focus more on his relationship, his “false monogamy” in my opinion. That’s probably why he’s been reaching out to me a lot more this semester. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened between the two of you, but you were good when you were just focusing on football.”

“Yeah, I’m good on the field, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need someone to talk to. You’re a good friend, Lucky. A good motivator. I needed that.”

“I’m here whenever you need to lean on someone. I’m not taking that away as long as you don’t let me. But why don’t you want me to continue this side gig?”

“The more people find out about you, the more people not gonna take you serious.”

“Have you seen the content I post?”

“No, I just heard this rumor.”

“You wanna see?” I started rubbing my crotch slowly, making it hard. He looked down at it and glared up at me.

“I mean—whatchu mean,” he asked me with a softer tone in his voice. I walked up closer to him while he never took his eyes off of me. Licking his lips in temptation, balling up his fists. I stopped rubbing my bulge and started fondling his. He tilted his head up and closed his eyes, moaning through his clutched lips. “Lucky.” He grabbed the hand I was rubbing him with and lightly pushed it back. “I gotta go to practice. Think about what I said.”

He walked away from me, adjusting his shorts first and then leaving out. I just stood there, my hormones dying down and distraught. He knew he wanted it, but I sure wasn’t gonna give it to him. I don’t think he knows how good Flixxn is working out for me. And maybe I am being a little naive, but I’d want to take this risk and see how the road goes. Ain’t so bad in hitting my head on concrete, something that’s yet to be achieved in that business.

**There's an alternate version I made on the sly if y'all want that too. It features another sequence with Jaycen and Lucky in the bathroom.**

Copyright (c) 2021 All rights reserved.

[rixhardwrites]

Leopard Tears (part 2)

There was this new subscriber to my Flixn that rang during class. The name went by “deluxxxn425”, something you’d probably have to decipher if a crime was ever to be committed. The account had no videos, but it did have multiple likes of my videos. It even commented on one of my recents. You got any more sexy videos like this? Plenty of them in similar fashion, but I don’t like putting out the same content each time. I love the division of putting out my artwork while also keeping it fresh. I’m sure a lot of people want remixes of my old ones.

The account even sent a message to me. I opened it up and it said Hey, bro. You ever do special requests? I texted them back. Yeah, I do. As long as it doesn’t deal with anything scat-related or all the other weird categories. Sure, I’m a self-declared freak and all, but I don’t want that to mean that I will try just about anything. That’ll be another proof in being a pleasure hoe. Eventually, the subscriber texted back. That’s cool. I’ll let you know if I think of anything. I just really love your videos.

In the back of my head, this is how I envisioned being famous on the internet. A generally satisfied subscriber or follower who loves my content for what it is. I’ve gotten to a point of stardom that is satisfying only because I’m making what I want to make. I’m embracing all of the sexual fantasies that I wanted to explore in a private/public setting. The good thing is that nobody in my family suspects a thing about the content. Maybe they will in the future, but I’m just enjoying the moment right now. At least I get to keep a little bit of my obscurities.

I walked out the side door to get easier access to my car in the parking lot. My old, blue Toyota Celica. Since I only had one class today, I really didn’t have too much else to go to. I would’ve gotten some coffee, but I’m not really caffeine-hungry. However, I can’t go wrong with a good croissanwich from Burger King. I’m doing it off-campus though. Before I went to my car, I saw Nathan coming from the same side doors and trodding down the steps. He noticed me and came my direction, crossing the pathway near the library. Once he got close, he went to my side and held his hand out for me to shake it. “So you’re about to leave?”

Nathan

I shook his hand again, this time with a bit more grip to match his strong lock. “Pretty much, yeah. I really don’t have nothing else to attend on days like this. One class, then I’m gone.”

He nodded his head then took his eyes to my car. “This is one fine car right here. Not a lot of people here have these models.”

“Thanks. By the graces of God, I got it for dirt cheap at one lot and it surprisingly worked fluently. I could’ve opted for something newer, but I just love bringing life into older cars.” I opened up the car door and let him view the interior. “And I try to keep it as tidy as possible inside. It’s close to 90.”

“You did good with the car. I definitely need to work on cleaning out my car.”

“What car do you have?”

“It’s a white 2016 Infiniti Q50. It’s on the other side near the business hall in that parking lot.”

“You were heading over there?”

“Oh, no. I was just coming to tell you that I took what you said and changed my major to the Bachelor of Arts. My scheduling for it begins next semester.”

“What?!” I exclaimed so hard my voice cracked. “Dude, I’m glad you did it, for real.” I honestly had a feeling that he was gonna do it. I’m surprised he consulted me and not any other friend that he’s known for a much longer time. The only thing I can do right now is just be elated for him and see where this road takes him next semester.

“Thanks, man. I’m looking forward to what it brings to the table so far. Oh, and I forgot to get your number when we talked earlier.”

“Oh, sure.” I waited for him to unlock his phone and go into the Phone app. I told him the 10 forbidden digits and he called my phone for me to log his number. “And your number came through.”

“Cool, cool. Well, man. I guess I’ll see you around then. My class is right there in the Art building.” He fist-bumped me and I told him I’ll see him later. Once he headed off, he gave me one last look with a grin and headed up the steps. I got a glimpse of that fat ass he had too. I swear, athlete asses give me the biggest turn-ons. I’m wasting time, though. I need to enjoy myself before the day is up. At least I have his number though just in case he wants to hang. I got back in my car, started the ignition, and headed on downtown straight to the apartments.

I was working on this abstract masterpiece on a 44-inch canvas. This was derived from different thought pieces that I dreamt up one day. That dream with the rain and the man had me contemplating and attempting to craft the symbols. Color wise, I visited the coolest, darkest hues: navy blue to indigo, maybe a smidge of maroon for the tension. There was also a cream color in there as well, but just splatters of it.

Laying on the tarp in the guest room, I tightened my apron and started dipping the tip of the smallest paintbrush onto the cream paint on the pallette. I started flicking the moist paint around the canvas, just right over the indigo colors and a little bit of the maroon. As expected, it created these smallish spots of cream paint where I want them. It wasn’t even five minutes in when somebody started calling my phone. Well, a video call at that. I started to decline but then I saw it was Jaycen on the line. I haven’t talked to him since that meetup we had once he told me that football was important to him and he didn’t want to have love interfere with his goals or some shit. I answered the call.

“Hello.” I pretended to be optimistic.

“Hey.” He was inside with his shirt off. I have this unnerving feeling he’s trying to tease me with something. “What you been up to?”

Jaycen

“Oh, nothing much. Just chilling, chilling, and painting. How about you?”

“Well, you know training. Football. Trying to binge watch some shows you recommended. I haven’t seen you on campus as much.” Well, duh, man. We don’t even have the same major, and especially since the pandemic’s ruining in-person class.

“Yeah. My classes aren’t full force this time around, so I guess less of me will be more of me.”

He chuckled softly. “You still at the same apartment?”

“Yep. Right in the Northends.” Of course, he’s trying to see if he could come over. I mean, he could but at a day where I don’t have my hands filled with paint. But hey, I don’t want to intrude on his relationship status or his football stardom. So I just keep the convo simple.

“Oh. Well, I’ve been meaning to tell you something important, but I really haven’t found the time or the place to tell you in private. You have time today?”

I hesitated a little bit. I mean, I knew what I wanted to say but I wanted to let him down gently. So I started tapping the phone screen rapidly. “Fuck, wait a minute. Why is my phone acting up? Come on na--” Once I cut myself off, I hung up the call. Then I turned my phone off to avoid him calling me again and thinking it really is a problem. What was buzzing in my head was telling Jaycen that I would have to take a ring check. Knowing me, I’m hard at saying no to people. Especially to people I didn’t know I secretly loved as more than friends with benefits. I didn’t want to hurt him even more, but I should’ve been honest.

I had to put my paintbrush down and call it a day. I couldn’t finish anything with all the possible ifs and whys roaming inside my head. I need a breather for today, even though I promised new content for the subscribers. My main goal was to clear it all, clear it all of the negative numbers and quotients. That’s why Hell’s Kitchen is my comfort zone show.

Part 3 comin momentarily.

Copyright (c) 2021 All rights reserved.

[rixhardwrites]

Leopard Tears (Part 1)

**This is an unfinished story draft that I was working on. Who knows, I might post the rest of it on here. Or on my upcoming Patreon site. Enjoy this first part, though.**

My side gig blew up faster than I expected. I didn’t do anything special with it other than post my ass along with some amazing artwork. Flixn is already known for that type of stuff, and my ass isn’t special to lay eyes on. Especially not in my eyes.

But the viewers and the subscribers don’t lie. They actually watch and tip my content. They probably even pirate my content to those local porn sites on the internet. Why should I be worried; I used to host accounts like that. But something that I did actually clicks with the audience. I get comments like Your ass makes me bust so much in my hand and Nice artwork, but your butthole is nicer, plus all the other shit. I even get sells from my artwork, thanks to a buddy I remember encouraging me to sell.

Flixn has done me well financially, but I can’t help but notice that maybe I did blow up a little too early. This should’ve been a plan for after college, because ever since my numbers started rolling in I’ve been catching a lot of gossip and weird looks from some of the crowd. The snickers from the girls, the shifts from the guys (well, some of the guys). Speaking of the guys, I’ve actually started to notice which guys were on the DL and which guys were just disgusted in how freely I revealed myself on the internet. At this point, I don’t care. If you wanna holler, then shout to the gods at me. If not, get the fuck off my timeline.

This Spring felt good to me though. I was doing well with my classes, I was meeting up with a lot of good people, and there was just a wholesome vibe this year. It was 2021, so everything was letting up again, besides a little bit of the mask-wearing and stuff. This morning, I felt good. I was wearing my gray-and-white jogging suit with the pearly Nikes, feeling all comfortable for class today. Yes sir, a nigga was finally touching the miracle dust again. There was rarely anybody outside at this time, except for this one brown-skinned guy walking opposite the same sidewalk as mine.

I remember seeing this guy before, in the student lounge on the computer. He used to come almost every morning and sit at one of those tall tables to do a Zoom class. Whenever he saw me first thing in the mornings, he’d glance at me, I’d look back and greet him—a whisper or a nod and a smile depending on the situation—and he’d nod, put a smile on his face, and continue back to what he was doing. It was one of those optimistic smiles that you’d see in the commercials, only his was genuine. He came my direction with a white crew neck on and some mahogany jeans. He was actually a couple inches shorter than me, but his lean muscularity made up for his “shortcomings”. I did my usual morning greet. “Morning, morning.”

He definitely was waiting for that, because he instantly he grew another smile. His smiles made him even more handsome, that and the new afro hairstyle he sported. And did I mention that he had braces too? They were silvery-blue braces matched top to bottom in his mouth. They were there ever since I met him. He greeted back enthusiastically. “Hey, what’s up, man?”

“Nothing much at all. Just enjoying this good ole morning weather. How about you?”

“That’s good and same here. It is nice today, not gonna lie.” He walked up the steps to the K. C. McClendon Hall, the building I was going to. “You go up here too?”

“Yep for my 9:00 class in English. I never seen you up here either.”

“Oh, I’m just up here because of my advisor. I’m supposed to be meeting her for something with my schedule.” He opened the door and let himself inside before he held it open for me.

“Thanks.” He nodded and walked over to one of the seats near the wall and the elevator. He placed his book bag down on the side of the one nearest to the window and sat on down while I just stood and hovered over the seat beside him. “I remember seeing you a lot in the mornings before class, but I don’t think we ever had a class together before.”

“Yeah, I used to see you a lot too. What’s your major, man?”

“Mass Communications. I was thinking about using it for advancing my career in media, because I’d love to have my own television/movie production studio one day.”

“That’s good, bro. At least you have a career set down your belt. I’m still undecided, which is why I need to talk to the advisor. I’m only here because I want to play baseball.” I keep forgetting that they have baseball up here. I used to go to the Braves games a lot when I was younger, but it just died off as I grew older.

“Wait a minute. I didn’t know you played baseball. I’m taken aback,” I joked.

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling. “I always liked the team around here a lot more, and I saw myself wanting to be a part of their new crew coached by one of the legends.”

“Definitely. I remember when I used to see those local highlights about him playing for the Doves.” I lied; I didn’t see the highlights, but I knew that he played for the Doves at some point.

He pulled out his phone. “Me too. And I have a picture of my dad taking a picture with him back in like 1996.” He went through his photos app, scrolled through all the pictures that he had taken on his phone, and clicked on the pic he was looking for. He showed me a picture of a bald man in a Doves baseball jacket with his arm around Forrest Minton.

“Whoa. Straight from the 90s.”

“Right. That pic was back when he won big against the Wolves that day.”

“You don’t say? I don’t know why I never thought to bring our camera at the games I went to. I would’ve had…at least one legend in my photo album.”

“Ah, I’m sure you were just living in the moment. Not a lot of people around our age didn’t think about bringing cameras, except for the cameraman.”

He definitely was right about that. I still reminisce on the days when my family had barely any modern technology. It took them about a full decade and a half to upgrade to a flat-screen TV. Even their cable box still had antennae.

I eventually sat down in the seat beside him. “That’s true. Baseball games are a whole ‘mother experience when you’re right in the atmosphere, chanting and singing.” I bursted out into a song number. “‘One, two, three strikes you’re out—“

He started singing along as well. “‘At the old ball game.’” We bursted out laughing at our little duet. I barely even noticed him patting my shoulders. Any outlandish moment like that always puts me in a good mood. After a few seconds, we calmed down and he looked at me. “What major do you think I should pick?”

I get questions like this asked a lot when meeting new people, and I never know the reason why. I always think maybe it’s my aura that attracts them and lets them know that I’m trustworthy and good with decision-making. I know I’m not when it comes to making decisions for myself. I’m indecisive as fuck. “That depends on what your interests are and what you may want to do as a side gig with your baseball career. Like, what do you like to do creatively?”

He started thinking for a bit. “I don’t recall too much of anything creative during my childhood.”

“Writing, art, woodwork, dance…”

“I guess I did a little bit of writing in the past, but I never wanted to turn it into a career. The only things I really liked to do was drama.”

“You mean, like acting and such?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Man, that’s good. You know, I used to act in plays a lot when I was younger. From elementary on up. I still have the scripts too.”

While we were talking, a lady in a long shawl opened up the double doors and came on inside. She was wearing thick, bifocal glasses, and a headwrap. She also had a brown satchel on her shoulders and a rolling suitcase on the other side. She looked at us and gave a warm smile. “Good morning, gentleman. How are you doing today?”

“Good,” we both said in unison.

“You both mind helping me upstairs with these things? I would myself, but my ailments are kicking in.”

“Yeah, sure,” I agreed. We both got up from the seats and grabbed one of her items. The guy grabbed the satchel from her and I grabbed her suitcase. There was an elevator right behind the seats that gave us a faster route up the stairs. After the elevator door scrubbed open, we let her on first and got on last. She pressed the number 3, taking us up to the third floor.

“Well, I certainly appreciate this good help,” the lady told us. “I definitely didn’t think that my arthritis was going to kick in early this morning.”

“It’s no problem at all. I completely understand,” I replied to her. The guy nodded back in agreement.

“Wait, are the both of you here for advisement on your schedules?”

“Oh, it was just me,” the guy--okay, I might as well call him Guy for now. Guy said it while raising his free hand slightly. “I was just trying to decide on what major I should get in.”

“Right, right. I remember because you called me yesterday about it too. Yes, I would definitely love to help you finish that process.” The elevator finally reached the 3rd floor and the door scrubbed back open. Again, we let her out first and followed her to one of the rooms on the right. On the way there, she asked me what my major was and I told her Mass Comm and how I wanted to use that for writing TV and movies. She was intrigued all the way, telling me stories about how she has a BA in Mass Comm and all that jazz. I finally caught her name too: Mrs. Biloxi. I was gonna crack a joke and asked if she lived in Biloxi, but I’m not that damn corny…anymore.

She opened up the room door and she took us to her main office. “I know it may seem a bit junky in here at first glance, so bare with me.” The moment she opened the office doors, papers went flying. A fucking dust bowl sprawled across the room and left it with collateral damage. I’m just kidding; the room wasn’t that bad. I wasn’t lying about the papers sprawled everywhere per se, but at least it was stacked in a place where we wouldn’t suffocate. “You can set my stuff beside the rolling chair over there.” That we did. Guy set her satchel on the arm of her chair while I set her suitcase in front of it.

I checked the time on my phone. It was already almost 9:00. “Dang. Time went by fast.”

“It’s already time for your class,” Guy asked.

“You know it. Duty calls for those mornings. But since you told me your interest is in drama, think about getting a Bachelor of Arts degree in that area. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” I held out my hand for him to shake on it and he shook it with another cheeky, brace-filled smile grown onto his face.

“Thanks, I’ll definitely take heed of that. Hey, what’s your name, though?”

“Oh, my bad. It’s Lucky.”

“Lucky,” he repeated, probably to remember it in his head. “My name’s Nathan.”

“Nathan. Baseball legend Nathan.”

He laughed again. “You’re hilarious, man. I’ll catch you later though.”

“See you, and see you too, Mrs. Biloxi.” I waved at Mrs. Biloxi and she waved back as I left her office. 

My smile became adhesive, even after I pedalled down the steps towards my English class. I get this unnerving deja vu moment from time to time and at the oddest of intervals. Sometimes, the reality of these moments seep into my dreamscape first. Once, there was this dream of a guy that I’ve never met before having the same optimism as Nathan and talking to me about the skies and shit. Then, as the dream morphed into another time moment, I was walking into the rain and saw the same guy opening the door for me, telling me “Don’t worry; I got you, bro” and opened the door for me. I woke up just at the end of the dream with a bit of confusion as much as any other dream.

There are events in my life that come my way for a reason. Reasons that I’m still searching for in my soul. However, I still ask the question why. Why would these align in my direction? Is this my purpose, to be a pleasure hoe? To be used to answer people’s problems in life and grant them a false type of satisfaction? I know I was never meant to do that shit, yet I still find myself in guru mode with these people. I guess the name really helps those factors. Lucky. Unlucky for me, how ‘bout that?

----

*to be continued...*

Copyright (c) 2021. All rights reserved.

[rixhardwrites]

The Guest with the Guess

Old story, but new to y'all. Amateur writing, I know. But I'm sure that it will get you good. Enjoy.

A couple of my brother Levi’s friends came over one day to hang out and play some games and stuff. He brought over Al (short for Alejandro), a hispanic that plays baseball in college; Frenchii, a nigga from prison that eventually became my friend; and Maseo, another nigga that is Frenchii’s friend that became my friend.

The moment he walked through the house doors, he dapped me up and looked me up and down. I was wearing my silver joggers that kinda cupped my dick. He’s always been like this, but the other times it was really subtle. This time, I noticed him but I was fine with it. Him and Frenchii always sagging by me, but his sag a bit sexier since his booty is a lot wider. I tried to contain not getting turned on around the guys.

Maseo

We all played pool games while telling various stories and shit about women and celebrities. Frenchii didn’t have a girlfriend, but boy does he love fuckin around when he gets the chance. Maseo never really had anybody except for that one girl he was talking to briefly. Ion even know what happened in her case, but that’s all the details I know.

After a while, we migrated to playing 2K on the Playstation 5 my brother got. He’s a pro at it, and I think I kinda learned my skills from watching him play over the years. I hate to say it, but Frenchii had better technique than him and me. It’s hard tryna beat him and his team.

Maseo just sat and spectated the whole way round, but at one moment he got up to use the bathroom briefly. When he got up with them sexy ass boxers exposed, I noticed his belt that looked an awful lot like mine. It was a Guess belt that went missing a while back in April. I hope the nigga didn’t snoop in my room and steal my belt. It’s off-limits to any guests, unless I’m messing with them. I’ll address it once we get a space alone.

Another while had passed and Frenchii, Al, and Levi had to go and take care of business. I knew immediately because Frenchii told Levi it was time. Levi paused the game and got up from the recliner. I looked over to Maseo and he was lounging on the couch face down and asleep.

“You gonna hold the place down for me while we gone,” Levi asked me.

“I got nothing better to do. What about Maseo?”

“Nah, let him rest. We’ll be back sooner than you know it.” I figured Maseo probably wasn’t in the game. They never really brought him out when it came down to functions like this. All I saw with him was Frenchii and maybe Vontrevious, but Maseo and Al weren’t to be found. They both headed out the door and I got up to get myself a drink. I checked my watch and saw the time was already 7:30. Damn, how did time lapse this far?

Before I poured up a drink, I looked back at Maseo and saw him with his ass all out covered only by those black briefs. I really couldn’t pinpoint how similar that belt looked to my own belt. My belt had this special engraving on it I made just in case anybody tried to steal it or anything. I mean, Guess belts aren’t that expensive by today’s standard, but I had a lot of past friends try to wear my stuff without me asking.

I put the wine bottle down and went over to him. I could hear his light snores as I got closer. I wanted to observe the back of the belt to see if I could find the engraving and there it was: my initials on the back of the belt. What the fuck, Maseo? It always be the ones right under your nose.

A part of me wanted to jerk him up and ask him why he stole my belt, but I’m not that hostile…yet. I just decided to take it off him while he sleep. Seem like he was in a deep one too. Being as gentle as possible, I put my left knee on the couch and dug my hands to try to unbuckle his belt. I reached a bit too high and accidentally felt up on his dick. The sensation of it made him squirm slightly, clenching and unclenching those juicy cheeks. My penis started bulging in my pants after he did that, but I stayed focus.

It was getting awkward by me just towering over him tryna unbuckle, so what I did to make it easier and quicker was lay down on the couch and try to do it. So I did that, making sure I didn’t bother him again, and reached for the belt again. Like before, I went too far up and rubbed my hand against his dick again. I was so close to his buckle, but he ended up moving again. I didn’t realize how close his ass was to my bulge, but I felt that shit when he popped it back out. It was soft as fuck.

I could barely focus at this point. My dick was throbbing on that soft booty, and he didn’t know a thing about it. That turned me on a lot more, but I hope he don’t think of me as a perv or anything. I focused again on the belt and I finally reached it, but then I could feel his dick getting hard on my arm. He kept squeezing them cheeks in and out, thrusting slowly into the couch. Felt every moment on my dick, and I couldn’t help but hump his booty slowly.

A second later, he accidentally touched my hand (probably reaching down to stroke himself) and he turned to me. I stopped humping and looked at him too. I almost shat myself in embarrassment. He stared at me for a second and asked me, “What the fuck you doin?”

I really couldn’t get myself out of this situation because this was already an odd way to try to take off a belt, but I had to be upfront with him. I retracted my hands back. “When did you take my belt out the room?”

He hesitated. “I was gonna give it back to you. But why you humpin my ass, man?”

“I was tryna take the belt offa you, but you kept brushing that ass up on my dick. Next time, you just need to ask me if you wanna borrow my belt.”

Maseo looked around the room and then asked, “Where everybody at?”

“They went out for a little bit. They should be back after a while.”

“Oh.” I noticed he ain’t ask me to back off or get out of this position. He just lowered his left arm and put it down on his briefs. It moved up and down a little bit, so I knew he was stroking his shit. "Ay, you rock with boys or somethin," he asked me softly.

"Depends on how I feel. How you feel right now,`` I asked as I pressed into his ass a little more. He let out a deep, breathy sigh and stroked himself a bit faster.

"You betta not say nothin to nobody." I focused on the look he gave me, that sexy glare in those almond-shaped eyes.

“What I’m gonna say?” I worked my left hand down to his hips and started grinding on him. Man, his booty felt so good rubbin my bulge. I could tell he was getting turned on by it too. I saw him mutter a soft “Shit” and reach his hand down his Tommy briefs. “Yeah, I saw you looking at what I was packin earlier.”

All Maseo could mutter was “Mmm”. To get him even more aroused, I slid down a little and dug my bulge deeper into his crack, letting him feel my dick pressed against his hole. “Nigga, augh. Whatchu’ doin?”

The more I did it to him, the faster he started jerking his shit. At one point, he started throwing that ass back on my bulge. “Ah, yeah. Keep doing that, Maseo. Keep going.” He was moaning so seductively and that made me go faster. We should might as well call this sex. My precum was oozing from my joggers, but I felt like I was close to climaxing. “You gone make me nut, man.”

“Shit, you about to make me nut right now,” he replied.

After a while, his panting got faster and before you know it, he let out his loudest moan and came. Hearing his moan and feeling his booty poke in and out made me cum too. My moan was a lot softer, but it felt hard enough to grip his body like he was my wife. That was some of the best humping sessions I had in a long while. “That was so good,” I said.

“You still want yo belt,” Maseo asked me.

“Keep it. Just know I’m gonna take yo ass with it next time.” He chuckled a bit. I wiped off a bit of the wetness from his ass and got up from the couch, leaving him in the same position as before. The crew pulled up just in time, so I ended up sitting in the same seat as before. It was just Frenchii and Levi with a pizza in their hands.

“Everything good around here,” Levi asked.

I looked at Maseo and said, “Yep, just chillin and chillin.” I hope my cum stain wasn’t noticeable.

[rixhardwrites]

Late Times is now on Twitter. This will be a nightly thread of stories I will post to kind of keep you settled while waiting for the next story. Stay tuned.

https://twitter.com/rixhardonice

[rixhardwrites]

Only on Twitter.

[rixhardwrites]

Dying Buds

By Rixhard

Notice: Any images included below the surface are not mine. They are only included to enhance visuals and not in any way pertained to real life. Enjoy.

I don’t get it at all. I’ve been friends with my best friend Da’Quan ever since middle school. Straight from the jump we got along well. We defended each other when shit went down, we got suspended and detention together. We even made up these weird raps thinking we were gonna be famous off them someday. I still saved the “Breakfast ‘n’ Bitches” recording we had. What a time to be alive, man.

High school was a different story. We started straying apart by senior year, because near the end I revealed to him something that I never thought would awaken inside of me. I told him I was bisexual and he did not take it well. I still remember him pacing back and forth in the hallway screaming, “What the fuck, Dinzel?! You tellin’ me you like dick?!” Too, I said. I like dick too. I’m still a coochie guy.

After that unnecessary argument, we never talked again. He told me specifically he can’t fuck with me if I’m messing with dudes. That’s outta his zone. I was hurt, but at the same time if he didn’t accept me for who I was deep down, that’s his problem. That’s his insecurity he gotta live with, and I’m steady gonna live my life the way I want to. By the way, I don’t know what he talkin’ ‘bout. He’s the one who sag his pants to the floor, exposing all that crack.

Fast forward to the college campus, I was talking to a friend while walking on the plaza. Her name is Kallie and she’s one of my day ones from the freshman year since we both major in Psychology. “I thought it was easy getting over a breakup with Sean,” she spoke to me. “But you know that…feeling you get when you, you know?”

“Yes,” I answered. I guess I could relate considering my previous relationships and how they ended. It’s a weird fucking feeling, but after awhile it just fades.

“Like we been together for 8 years. Then, he goes out and cheats on me with some broad at Rue21. Like what does that off-brand bitch have that I don’t have?”

I bit my tongue a little bit because I shop at Rue21 sometimes. I just said, “With guys, it’s all about…what you can put your dick into. You know what I mean?” She nodded. “If they feel that something is lacking in your relationship versus someone with their legs wide open, then they most definitely gonna go towards the legs wide open. Even if y’all been faithful.”

We turned right on the sidewalk heading towards the library. “I thought at the time we were doing great, but it seemed like he just started arguments with me for no reason. Like the smallest shit would tick him off.”

“When his mood swings start,” I asked.

She thought for a bit and said, “Well, it started early this February when I lost the ankle bracelet he gave me. I ended up finding it, but he was still mad.”

“He a weird nigga.” I wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing another dude on the side. I’ve seen that shit before happening with my other friend Shaquelle. (I liked the girl at first, but she always seemed to friendzone me.) Her dude was acting funny out the blue one day and it turns out he was fucking some dude behind the dumpster at the job they worked at. I don’t put it past nooooobody.

As we walked closer to the library, I saw two people walking towards us: a girl and a guy. The girl shouted “KayKay!” at the top of her lungs and started running towards her, leaving the nigga in the dust.

“Oh my gosh, girl!” Kallie exclaimed as she reached out for a hug. “How you doing?”

They gave each other a big embrace as the guy finally walked up beside her. By the shape of the head, I automatically knew it was Da’Quan. He was wearing a bright yellow hoodie with a yellow backwards snapback and sagging jeans. I’m not gonna lie; after not seeing him for a good three years I didn’t expect him to attend my college. After the incident, I didn’t know what to say to him.

He looked at me and said to me in a lowly voice, “What up?”

“Nothing much,” I responded awkwardly. “You?”

“I’m straight.” The way he said that looking at me with a straight face gave me the slightest sense of tension again between us. Either he wanted to tell me he’s been doing good or tryna reiterate that he still straight. Whatever he meant, I didn’t really care for it.

“Where were y’all headed to on this fine ass day,” the girl asked.

Kallie told her, “We were just gonna go chill out near the library or something before our classes.”

“Oh, I still have time. Can I join?”

“Always, always! I gotta tell you some crazy shit about Johnathan anyway.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Unh unh. You know I gotta hear this tea. Fill me in on this shit.” The girl then pointed to Da’Quan to introduce him. “Oh, by the way, this my friend Da’Quan.”

He nodded to her and she greeted him with a wave and a “Hey.” She doesn’t know about our story or that he was a childhood friend of mine.

“I’ll scruff with y’all later. I gotta class to go to,” he said to the both of them. He looked at me one last time then put his head as he walked the opposite way from us.

“No problem, Day. We’ll catch you later,” his friend said. The three of us just went on to our favorite spot where the benches and tables were. While they were talkin and bitch-fittin, the only thing that kept roaming in my mind was Da’Quan. We need to at least get on resolved terms so that if we go our separate ways, we just leave amicably.

About an hour later…

I was done with the good convo the girls had and now I was ready to hit the dorm. I was lucky to get a dorm to myself. I don’t need my walls split between a person who could either be cool or be completely hell. I love my piece of solitude anyway.

I rode the elevator to my dorm, floor 3-room 313. As I was walking, I almost didn’t feel the key in my pocket. I was like, what the fuck? I always put that card in the same place and I can’t feel it or–oh wait, there it is. It blended in a little with my wallet. Coming up from the stairwell was Da’Quan, who looked at me and paused. After a few seconds of staring, he turned his head away and continued to walk past me. I had to say something.

“Da’Quan,” I called to him.

He stopped and turned to me, putting his hands in his jacket pocket. He answered with, “What’chu want?”

“We haven’t spoke to each other in a while.”

“We speakin now.”

His remark pissed me off. “Nigga, don’t get smart with me.”

He stepped up into my face and told me, “Watch yo fuckin’ mouth, bruh. I said what I said.” Damn, he looked fine as fuck when he was angry. He still had me pissed though, but I didn’t wanna escalate it to a point where we don’t get shit done.

“I just wanna talk with you. Man to man, real talk.”

“There only one man in this hallway. And we ain’t got nothin’ to say.”

“You know what? Fuck it. Good seeing you again, man.” I was so fed up I couldn’t even slide my key on the door right. I had so much pent-up anger I could cry, but I don’t even need to cry about this. Shit happens. I finally slid it and activated the lock, opening the door.

Before I slammed it shut, he asked, “What is it you wanna talk about?”

I held the door open and said, “Ya probably don’t care, but I just wanted us to clear up whatever tension we had in the past so we can move on from it. That’s all.”

He grew silent a bit and looked around to see if anyone was coming down this way. The coast was clear, so he ended up sliding through my door and I closed it back. It was getting dark a little bit, so I turned my ceiling light on and he went over to my window to close the blinds. It felt odd seeing him in my presence. It kinda felt like seeing a ghost in my face. I settled down on my bed and said, “You can sit down anywhere you want.”

He looked at the chair and pulled it out to sit in it. He slouched back and stretched his legs out. “So what’s up?”

I sighed and explained to him, “Look, our last conversation did not end well. A lot of stuff was said that I didn’t mean, but I was legit hurt by your reaction to me.” He scoffed a bit and focused on the window outside. “I’m serious, dude. I wasn’t feelin your words towards me.”

“I said what I said,” he snapped at me. “I don’t see how you cain’t get over it when you can. You just…forget about it. Simple shit.”

“But that don’t explain why you decided to stop hanging with me afterwards. We could’ve hashed it out before—”

“Boy, you think anybody gonna take us serious with you bein’ the way you are now,” he interrupted. He pointed outside and said, “Where we from, that’s the deep hood. Ain’t nobody like us safe when you suckin’ on niggas like a bitch.”

“Nigga, I’m still the same person as years before.”

“Naw, you ain’t! You say you like bitches and niggas, but you just delirious, my dawg. On folk, I know you be fuckin’ boys more, and that’s the typa shit that’s gonna get us both rocked. So you do you and I’mma do me to save both ourselves.”

“Since when do you care about other people’s opinions? I don’t give a fuck about who thinks about what! Half of them ‘folk’ in the hood probably banging dudes behind closed doors too. It ain’t a problem with how you feel.”

“I don’ care about what they gotta say about us. Long as they don’ try no sneak shit.”

“So why can’t we just start over, Da’Quan? I still act the same, dress the same, and goof off the same. I’m just grown now.”

“I…just understand how you got this way, Dinzel. Yeah, you cool and all, but when you told me that it felt like you were living a lie the whole time. I mean, I don’t get it.”

“I wasn’t living a lie. When I first told you, that was my truth. I spoke to you first ‘cause I wanted to tell you how it is like a man.”

He rubbed his head a little bit and adjusted the cap on his head. I understand what he’s coming from. When we were hanging out, we were clingin’ like brothers. Almost ride-or-die type of shit. He probably isn’t used to knowing about bisexuality or the whole LBQZ as a whole.

“I understand if you don’t wanna associate with me no more from that. It confuses a lot of people, but I’m glad we were able to finally kick the dust about it.” He just stayed in silence and stared at the floor. I pushed myself further on the bed and laid against the wall. I didn’t really have much else to say; I was just waiting for an answer.

He eventually raised his head up and asked, “What’s it like? You know, being that way?”

“More or less the same. Just with extra range.”

“I gotcha.”

I strayed the subject away to something about him. I don’t know a thing he’s been up to or anything. “So how have these past few years been?”

“Oh, it’s straight, my guy. Just hustlin’, stackin’ my money up and shit. What bout you?”

“Doin’ well too. I’ve just been chilling myself. Tryna complete this Psychology stuff, freakin’ around, the good life and all that.”

“Freakin’ around,” he asked, cracking a grin. That was the first time he grinned in my face in a long while. It warmed up the atmosphere a bit.

“You know I’m a freak, man,” I replied to the statement. “I didn’t even know you were going here. What’s your major?”

“Music education.”

“That’s definitely you. I used to see you bangin’ on the desk during detention, still getting yo ass in trouble.”

“Yeah, boy. I still got it, too. I’m tryna be a producer or some shit.”

“You should, forreal. You got that Timbaland-Pharrell beat rhythm.”

He nodded and chuckled a bit. I was enjoying this side of him. This was the old him that I was used to, back when we kicked back in the schoolyard and talked about music, women we’d wanna marry, and all other things. When it got quiet, he hesitated a bit, then called my name,  “Dinzel?”

“Yeah,” I answered.

He hesitated again and then looked to the right of him and grabbed my rolled-up bag of Cheetos. He said while opening the bag, “I’m gon’ steal yo chips real quick.”

“Hell nah. Them my studying chips.” I hopped up off the bed to try to take them from him and he started hiding them behind his back.

“Nigga, get yo ass back. I jus’ wanted half,” he told me playfully. He kept rising them up in the air away from my reach, switchin’ them between hands and doing all these tricks to keep me from grasping it. To throw him off, I put my legs in between his and placed my crotch close to his face. He was like, “Get yo dick outta my face, man!”

“You gon’ give me the chips?”

“Hell nah! Fuck you!” I didn’t give up either. I went the extra mile and climbed over to have his legs be in between mine. Now I was towering over his dick with my ass just a few inches above it. He still was moving the chips around the air, but his eyes were focused down on where my crotch was again. I wasn’t wearing any drawls or anything, so it was probably noticeable he could see what I was packing under my joggers. “You doin’ some gay ass shit.”

“I’ll keep doing it if you don’t give my bag.” His final move was putting it behind the back of the chair again, clutching it between both of his hands. He asked for this. I ended up straddling him with my ass now on his cock reaching for the bag. At this point, I was just teasing him to see what he says. He didn’t say nothing but stare at my face. I tried grabbing both of his wrists, but he had a stronghold on the bag.

A few seconds later, I could feel a feel pokes of his bulge on my ass as he just sat in the chair. It was turning me on, so I ended up rhythmically moving my booty on it to get something out of him. He caught me off-guard when he spoke in his low voice.  “Damn, Zel. You know how to grin’ on my dick real good.”

“What,” I asked him, acting all naive in the moment.

“You heard what I said.”

“I thought you didn’t like this gay shit.”

“Ain’t nobody gotta know. We ain’t fuckin’. We just…playin’ around.” The thought of him saying that got me so horny. His bulge was now throbbing hard and I could feel that shit in my bootyhole. One thing I loved the most was dry humping and I got the best feelings out of it. I grabbed on his shoulders and started full-on gyrating, up and down, up and down. He dropped the chips and started holding onto my ass.

With each throb, I went a little bit faster on the tempo. He moaned every time I came down, and he started adding to the fun by humping me in the same rhythm. “You like that shit, don’t you, Quan?”

“Fuck. I’ve been wanting to do this to you for a while now,” he told me. The reality of it still didn’t settle in. I was just mad at him a few minutes ago and now I’m riding his throbbing underwear like the Black Rodeo. He gripped me tighter and started thrusting my junk. The feel of his compressed underwear was making me breathe harder, taking in every hump. I was leaking so bad in my joggers.

“Harder, Quan. Harder,” I demanded him. He went all in on me and I had to cover my mouth from all the pumping. I’ve never seen his dick before, but I bet it’s big. I wanted to see it, but for right now I’m just enjoying “playing” with him. A minute later, he settled down and let me grind on him again. He breathed harder and harder, never letting go of my butt. Without notice, he pulled my joggers down and I stopped.

“Whoa, dude. What are you doing,” I asked him. This was not what I was expecting, but it made me harder.

“Keep goin’, Zel. Keep goin’,” he just told me. He rubbed on my bare ass some more while he looked into my eyes. I just resumed humping that dick, and now I can feel the underwear and his boner even more. “I’m so close, bruh.”

“You’re close?”

“Hell yeah.”

“This ass making you close?”

“Yeah.”

“You like the way I bounce it on your rock-hard boner?”

“You keep on, you gon’ make me bust in a minute.”

I bounced harder. “Oh, yeah? I know you like it rough on that dick. You gonna make me cum too. Slap my ass.” He smacked my right cheek. “Smack it harder.” He smacked the same one harder for me, about 5 times in the same place.

“Shit, nigga.” He tilted his head back a bit while I gyrated and bounced back and forth. He clenched his eyes and teeth and let out a few moans in a row, clutching my ass harder with his fingertips. His clutch made cum a few big squirts in my joggers, leaving a wet mark in front of it. I got up off of his crotch and pulled my joggers back up while he looked inside of his underwear. “You made me bust so good, boy. Fuck.”

“Same here,” I responded. “So we good?”

He smiled. “Yeah, we good.” I dapped him up for the first time in years, and he got up out my seat, leaving a wet mark where his ass was sweating. “I hope nobody heard us.”

“These walls ain’t too thin. You could literally be screamin’ bloody murder and they won't hear nothin.”

“Hold it down, bruh,” he said heading to the door.

“You too, man. You too.” Da’Quan exited the room and I watched him walk down the hallway to the stairwell. He looked back with his hands in pockets, sagging his pants. He eventually pulled them up and turned his head forward.

A second later, a fine, dark-skinned athlete in the dorm in front of me opened his door and looked at me. He gave me a once-over and smirked, then he walked down the hallway flaunting his big booty in green gym shorts. You know what I’m thinking?

I think he heard us.

Copyright © 2023 All rights reserved.

[rixhardwrites]

New Year Pipe

By Rixhard

Notice: Any media below this line is not mine...like, at all. It's only used to enhance the viewing experience and to roll the story along. Enjoy!

December 30, the day that officially makes me 2 years sober off of alcohol. I still don't feel a thing other than the fact that I'm a bit cleaner and I don't get those cravings no more.

Those AA meetings been working wonders for me. At first, I didn't really care for em. Probably, like everyone else, I thought it was a waste of fuckin time and energy goin up there. The only reason I went to them more frequently was because I liked the other people's stories. The fact that they had all these issues and shit going on in their life made me relate to them a whole lot more. I've been into some legal troubles caused by my alcohol, and I don't feel like sitting in some dingy ass waiting cell.

These days, I'm just going to the grocery store to get items for the house and live life. On this particular day, I was walking out the store and I almost bumped into a fine, lightskin guy with a short cut and facial hair. He was wearing a wife beater and had this warm smile on his face when he said, "Oh, my bad, bro."

That voice sounded familiar. That face looked familiar. Then I realized that it was my old friend from the AA meetings: Anderius Wilson, or Andy for short. He got out of the program around the same time as me and he had an addiction to cigarettes. With all that chain-smoking he was doing, he still held up a clean, white smile.

"Dushane," he spoke grinning ear to ear. Yeah, that's the name.

"Andy!" I exclaimed with this giddy expression. We dapped each other up and gave our brotherly hug. "Man, it's been ages since I seen you. What you been up to?"

"I feel good, too. It's something about quittin that alcohol that got my body saying yes all over. I feel truly myself again."

"Hey, that's what I'm talking about, man. Those bad habits will have you through tough times, you know? I'm glad we both got out good in the end."

"I know, I know. I hope everybody kicked them habits, forreal. You think Xavion finished on good terms?" Xavion was a lean addict that was in the same AA group. The three of us hung out together sometimes, but we actually kinda got real close and fucked one night. I haven't heard from him since.

From the looks of Andy rubbing the back of his head, it was either he didn't seem sure or somethin bad happened to him. "Yeah, I don't know about it. I haven't talked to him since I got out. You know, he been missing meetings too."

"Shit, I know it was real tough with him. His life."

Andy nodded and stared into my face for a few seconds. "You still got my number?"

"Oh, yeah." I pulled out my phone from the pocket and checked the contacts. "I think it's still logged into my phone. Is it the 678 number still?"

"Yeah, we gotta celebrate for New Year's tomorrow. It’s at my place.”

“Sweet. You know I’ll be there on time.”

“That’s what’s up. Well, just hit my phone up and let me know.” I gave him one last dap and hug and the last time it was a bit longer. I caught a whiff of his Tommy Bahama scent and man it smelt fresh.

I let go of him and said, “No problem at all. It’s always good seeing you around.”

“Same. Be safe out here.”

“You too.” We both parted ways while he went inside the store and I searched for my Volkswagen. Shit, where did I park?

Tomorrow night…

Fast forward to the New Year’s party, I asked him where his location was. He said he lived at the beige house on Stony Bridge Drive. I drove there quicker than a bee; I had already missed a text from the wee hours of the morning with him asking Wyd? Like, come on now, 2am? He was on to somethin, and I was in on the joke. But I’m just gonna play it cool like I’m used to doing.

I drove up into the yard and parked beside his orange Mustang. I thought there was gonna be some more cars up here for the party, but it was just him. It also could’ve been too early, because I did come at like 8:30-ish. Then again, that ain’t too early either. I don’t know; I’ll just find out when I get in the place.

I walked up the driveway in some sweatshirt and cargo pants and knocked on the door with the “Two Shaves and a Haircut” rhythm. He opened the door in less than a second, wearing the same clothes from yesterday but with new shorts and socks. “Dushane,” he greeted me, looking into my face again.

“What’s up, Andy,” I greeted back.

When a car passed by on a street behind, he darted his eyes towards it and beckoned me inside without saying a word. I walked into his house and it had some amazing design. The dining room was right near the doorway and the table had these decorative candles and an open space of leather furniture in the living room. This dude knows home decor. To be respectful, I took my shoes off before I walked on the carpet. He looked at me and said, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I insist. I usually do this at all the houses I visit. Just some courtesy thing.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Also, sorry bout not texting you back sooner. I had an all-nighter last night that dawned me.” Still playing it cool.

“Ah, I understand. Don’t sweat it. I’m just glad you came.” He went around the table and got two sparkling juices out the grocery bag. “You want white grape or regular grape?”

Man, he would make me choose between two of my favorite drinks. “White grape.”

“Me too.” He poured both of the juices into some wine glasses and passed me one of them. I thanked him and he walked across the table to start the toast. He raised his and said, “To sober shit.”

“To sober shit,” I repeated. We clinked the glasses and drank that good liquid up. I could feel the bubbles popping on my tongue going down my esophagus…Yeah, that sounded too freaky. He got done drinking before me, setting the glass on his table. When I turned up the last drop, I said, “Damn! That hits the spot on New Year’s.”

“Glad you like it,” he replied. When I put my glass on the table, he added, “Oh, I got you something. You know, for reaching your goal.”

“Naw, you didn’t have to do–”

“Wait right here,” he interjected. I shut my ass up and he faded down the hallway into–I don’t know–his bedroom or something. It was darkly lit, so I couldn’t make out where he went. A few seconds later, he arrived with a flat, red box. I just stared at the box in shock and confusion. And curiosity, of course. I slowly took the box and looked up at him. “I think you’d like the color.”

I opened up the box and holy fuckin shit! It was a bussdown Fossil watch in the center with chrome all around the band. I couldn’t count how many karats this thang was, but it looked like a good grand or more. I was speechless. “Dude…”

He chuckled a bit at my reaction, but I was still confused. Why was he giving me something so luxury? I’ve only known him for 2 years. “Dushane, I gotta tell you this, real talk. When I first met you, I was at the point where I didn’t feel good about myself. I didn’t care about nobody, didn’t want to be around nobody. I just wanted to smoke these cigs and live through the next day.

“When you came around, that’s when everything changed. I kept hearing your stories over and over in my head, how you overcame sadness from whatever you was going through. I felt that in my soul, and that’s why I came to you to hang out with. I…I can’t explain it, but that feeling’s strong.”

I was flattered, but I also felt a bit more confused. All I ever did was ask him if he wanted to watch a movie. Then we just kicked off being friends from there. “I don’t know what to say, man. I mean, that’s just what brothers do.”

“No, we more than just brothers,” he told me as he crept up closer to me. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in for a sexy kiss on the lips. I suddenly felt this tinglin sensation going on and just let it happen. His lips weren’t as big but they felt good enough to give me a bulge. I could even feel his growing in his shorts as he pushed it onto me.

I caressed his fit chest and his muscles as we kept locking and twisting our lips up on each other. I brought my hand down to his shorts and rubbed his dick through the shorts. Deep moans came out of his throat once I did that trick. “You so sexy, you know that,” he asked me through the tasting.

“You are too,” I said. He eventually felt on my growing dick and his thick hands wrapped around it just gave me life. I ended up moaning too.

“Take yo clothes off,” he commanded. While I stripped out my shirt and pants, I kept thinking in my mind, Yeah, daddy. Do what you want. He crouched down and helped me take my pants off. Then, he pulled my underwear down and saw my rock-hard cock.

He jerked it for a minute while looking into my eyes and put his throat on my dick. “Mmm,” I moaned as I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. His mouth going up and down my dick felt so good, and the fact that he knew what he was doing just made it even sexier. He never gave me vibes like this, and if he did I sure was naive.

He took his mouth out and asked if I liked it. I nodded my head yes and looked down at him again. He was still staring into my eyes, and for a minute I stared at his. I knew he was on to something telling me that story. Nothing’s got me prepared for this moment. I mean, hell; I didn’t get to sit down yet. Here I am, still near the doorway getting my dick sucked like a lollipop. It’s worth every nickel.

He ended up taking his shorts down and exposing his clean-shaven, lightskin cock. Looked like it might be 9 inches to some degree. He just started stroking that thing while he stroked my dick with his wet mouth. He kinda teased my tip a little bit when he started licking it, letting it ooze pre-cum all over his tongue. “Andy, ugh,” I moaned again.

“Yeah, baby,” he asked. I loved it when he called me that. It just made me even harder seeing him this submissive. I almost came just from that word alone.

“Take your shirt off,” I told him to do. He pulled it off, showing his chiseled abs and squeezable pecs. He eventually rose up and licked all over my body, from my stomach to my pecs. Both of us were breathing hard in the moment of touchin and lovin. I just had to squeeze him and touch all over his body before I said, “Bend over.”

He went over to the dining room table and opened up his tight ass cheeks. “Go easy on me,” he requested.

“With pleasure,” I said. As he continued to jerk himself, I spat on my dick a little bit and wet it up a little bit. Before I put it in, I made him a little looser by teasing him with it. I tapped my dick on his hole a few times and slowly put it in him. He winced a little bit while clutching the tablecloth, but he never told me to stop. I just kept thrusting that dick in him, slower at first and then picking up speed after a while. His hole felt so warm and tight and his grunts were making me more hornier.

“Take that ass, baby. Yeah,” he commanded. A few minutes of thrusting and I was really close to busting that nut then. I could feel it rising in my dick, the pressure building bigger.

“I’m about to cum, Andy,” I told him.

“Nut on my back, bro. Nut on my back,” he said. Seven thrusts later, I took my dick out and squirted real hard on his back. That moan I just made could’ve woken up the neighbors beside him. He let out a moan too and squirted on his carpet underneath the table. I got a little bit of cum in his hair, but majority was on his back and near his butt.

That was the best feeling that I had in a long time. Three months to be frank with it. All that pent up energy and barely no jerking off is worth it for me. “Did you cum too,” I asked him.

“Yeah. That dick was bigger than I expected,” he replied.

“That ass is tighter than I expected.” We both started cackling and junk, and once we settled down we got in another long kiss to go to the next level of brotherhood.

“Happy New Year, man,” he said to me with that hot grin on his face.

“Happy New Year to you too.” I checked my clock to see what time it was and guess what? It was just 9:43. I thought it was at least midnight. Welp, we got all night. “Round 2?”

Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved.

[rixhardwrites]

New Blog

First account was a secondary blog. Wanted it to be the main thing. Here we are, 2023.

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