JOSHUA PARKER ATTEMPTED to tune out the noise of the boisterous clients in the hair salon where he worked as a stylist. His mind subdued, he just wanted to get through the day. He was in his own world; his own zone. Known as one of the best male hair stylists in St Pete., he could curl and flat iron hair with his eyes closed. He worked on a woman’s hair who sat in his stylist chair, paying careful attention to detail, even though he appeared to be distracted.
The women of the salon had nicknamed him “Dream” because every woman dreamed of snagging a man as fine as Joshua. He stood six feet one, weighed a hundred and ninety pounds, and had a baby-smooth dark chocolate complexion, and honey colored bedroom eyes. His muscular physique indicated he participated in regular work outs at a gym. However, it wasn’t just the physical aspects of him that held the women’s interest. Joshua also worked every day that the salon was open, coming in early and often staying late to appease his clients. He was even-tempered, mild-mannered, and always had a kind word for everyone. Joshua tried his best to avoid gossiping and talking behind people’s back. To sum things up, he came to work, gave it one hundred percent, did it with a pleasant attitude and minded his own business.
He went about the task of flat ironing the client’s hair as he daydreamed. The bells above the door sounded, signaling the arrival of a customer. When Joshua glanced up at the guy who’d just walked in, it startled him. He made the mistake of touching the hot iron to the lady’s scalp.
“Shit,” she howled. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You burned me,” she yelled, turning around in the swivel chair to glare at him as if she wanted to fight.
Under normal circumstances, Joshua would do everything in his power to pacify his customer, but his focus was on something else. “Ma’am, I am so sorry. Can you give me a minute to take care of something? I will be right back.”
He didn’t wait to hear her response. Instead, he approached the new client who had taken a seat, crossed his legs and was staring at him with his lips pursed. Joshua recognized the, “What you gonna do now?” expression and hissed in the other man’s ear, “Outside. Now.” The guy offered no objections as he stood and went back out the door he’d just entered with Joshua in tow.
Once outside the establishment, Joshua led the guy to the far end of the parking lot, away from prying eyes and bionic ears. His gaze darted left to right. He wanted to be certain no one would be able to eavesdrop on the conversation he was about to have. Once he’d determined the coast was clear, he shoved the guy in the chest, causing him to stagger a few steps backwards.
“How the fuck did you find out where I work, Chancy? Are you stalking me now?” He glared at the thinner, shorter guy, itching to slap the smug look off his face.
“Man, please. Last time I heard, this was a free country. I can patronize any beauty shop I want to. So, I chose to come here. You got a problem with it?” Chancy placed his hand on his hip. “I know you do not want me to clown out here, so you better keep your hands to yourself,” he warned.
Joshua tried to swallow down his anger, but he was still livid. He didn’t appreciate the stunt Chancy had pulled. “You’re just here to annoy me. Look, you showing up here will not make me change my mind about what I said the last time I saw you. I told you, what happened between us was a mistake. I was drunk and things got out of hand. It will never happen again.” He couldn’t even look Chancy in the eye as he spoke; a burning sense of shame washed over him. “I’m not that way,” he ended.
“Oh really?” Chancy’s eyes flashed. “You weren’t denying being that way when you were digging off in my ass the other night, now were you?” He did an exaggerated neck roll, which further incensed Joshua. “As I recall, you enjoyed every minute of it. Now, don’t get beside yourself. You need to stop fronting. You can’t just tell me it’s over and stop answering my calls and texts. It doesn’t work that way, booboo.”
“Oh really?” Joshua snarled clenching and unclenching his fist.
“Yes, really,” he said with conviction, not backing down from the cold glare in Joshua’s eyes. “It’s not over until I say so. If you don’t want everyone and their mamas to know how you really get down, I suggest you be at my place tonight at eight o’clock…sharp, or else. Oh, and bring the KY Jelly. It’s going down.” He pursed his lips, gave Joshua the once-over, snapped his fingers and strutted off.
Joshua’s eyes burned as he watched Chancy leave. He envisioned picking up a brick and hurling it into the back of Chancy’s head. It was a good thing there were no loose bricks in his sight. He’d probably burst Chancy’s head open like an over-ripe tomato.
Damn. I can’t believe this dick-in-the-booty loving nigga is really trying to blackmail my ass, Joshua thought. How the hell did he find out where I work?
He stood outside for a while, just inhaling and exhaling, attempting to calm his nerves. Finally, after about ten minutes, he went back inside the salon to finish his customer’s hair. His mood had sunk even lower.
Can this day get any worse? He thought.
Of course it could.
Joshua ended up giving the client a discount on her hair style because she wouldn’t shut up about him burning her. By the time he’d finished, he wanted to stuff a lace front wig down her throat or shove a hot comb up her ass. He let out an audible breath of relief when she finally left the salon. Between Chancy’s threats and the woman’s complaints, Joshua had about all he could take for one day.
If any of the other stylists noticed Joshua was having a rough day, no one mentioned it. They kept their focus on their own clients because it was a very busy day. No one else wanted to make the mistake of burning their customer too and losing out on money.
Vanessa Hugabook, the owner of St. Pete’s Sadity Hair Salon, walked in and everyone groaned. Once again, the time to collect the booth fees had arrived.
“I don’t know what y’all tripping for,” Vanessa said. “Y’all know I’m going to ask about my money. Closed mouths don’t get fed.”
“More like closed legs,” Georgetta Flanagan mumbled as Vanessa disappeared in the back room. “And that hoe always got hers open,” she cracked causing everyone in the salon to erupt in laughter. “She just need her money so she can go to the next male revue and stuff it down some stripper’s g-string.”
“Did I hear someone say stripper?” Vanessa asked returning. “Is there a male revue closer than Miami? I don’t want to drive that far just to see some dick slanging.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a stripper who’ll be more than happy to let you bounce up on his dick and make it worth the trip,” Georgetta said.
“What are you insinuating?” Vanessa asked, batting her eyelashes and feigning innocence.
“You know I ain’t insinuating nothing. I’m telling the damn truth.” Georgetta wasn’t one to hold back her words for fear of offending anyone. She really was one of those types of women who had an “I-don’t-give-a-shit” attitude. She said whatever she wanted to, and she didn’t bite her tongue, either. “So, what happened at the last show?” Even though she gave Vanessa hell about staying in the strip clubs, she couldn’t wait to hear the latest gossip about what when on.
“Oooooooo girl, girl, girl!" Vanessa’s face became animated as she prepared to tell everyone the juicy gossip. “Dream, you may want to cover your ears when I talk about this,” she told Joshua then turned back to the ladies. “I know y’all remember The Real Housewives of Atlanta, right?”
“Hell yes. That’s my show,” Georgetta said. “I can’t wait until next season to see what my girl, Nene will be up to.”
“Anyway,” Vanessa interrupted. “Do y’all remember the episode when Phaedra hired that male stripper for Kandi’s birthday party?”
“Are you talking ‘bout the one who could put his own ding-a-ling in his mouth?” Georgetta’s client asked and Vanessa nodded.
“That’s the one. Girl, he was at Whiskey North last night. He showed out. I thought they were exaggerating about him being able to suck his own thing—but he sure can. Watching him do that just did something to me!”
Georgetta frowned. “Ugg. I think that’s nasty as hell. How you gonna try to kiss somebody after you done sucked ya own dick?” Everyone within earshot burst into laughter. “I don’t think I’d want to see that.” She gave an exaggerated shiver and shook her head.
“I had no problem looking,” Vanessa said. “I even got exclusive footage on videotape,” she teased. “You sure you don’t want to see?”
“I sure do,” Georgetta’s client said.
“Let me make sure I got the right video,” Vanessa said as she sifted through the videos on her cell phone. “I wouldn’t want y’all to see any of my personal ones by mistake.” She giggled.
Georgetta rolled her eyes. “We don’t wanna see that amateur porn either.”
“I see you got jokes. An amateur I am not,” Vanessa bragged. “Anyway, here’s the footage I caught,” she told the customer, handing her the iPhone so she could view it.
“Oh my word,” the lady exclaimed as her eyes widened. “He actually is sucking on his own—uhhhhh weeee!!!! And is that whip cream?”
Georgetta couldn’t help craning her neck to catch a sneak peek. Even her bottom lip dropped.
“I see you looking on the sly,” Vanessa said. “Thought it was nasty?”
“It is nasty. But I can admit, it’s fascinating to see somebody do that. Shoot, I ain’t gonna even lie. Well, damn!” Her customer forgotten, she focused her full attention to the male stripper in the video. “Wow. He is really flexible. How the hell does he do that?”
Joshua’s mind whirled. He had blocked the women’s squeals, laughter and giggles out as his thoughts turned to Chancy and his threats. He’d surmised the threats weren’t idle due to the fact Chancy had found his place of employment.
He hated the fact he’d let himself get carried away a few days prior. He’d acted out of character and now he was afraid his indiscretion would come back to haunt him.
He’d never anticipated hooking up with another man, even though he had entertained the thought from time to time. However, he’d never acted on his impulses until the infamous day in question.
He’d actually met Chancy on Craigslist, of all places. Curiosity had gotten the best of him, and he’d gone online to search the personal ads, looking for men who were interested in other men. One ad had captured his his attention right away:
Do You Want To Stir Your Peanut Butter In My Jelly?
Bottom looking for straight male to turn on and out. If you’re a straight male looking to try a different experience, I’m your guy. Very discreet. No strings attached.
He’d been captivated by that ad and had gotten the nerve to contact the person after some hesitation. Now, he regretted ever responding to the advertisement—ever going online and searching Craigslist, for that matter. If only he could turn back the hands of time.
Chancy had seemed to be an alright guy. His proclamation of being “discreet” and the “no strings attached” had been bogus. As soon as Joshua stopped returning his calls and texts, Chancy had reacted like a scorned little bitch. He’d left several texts threatening to expose Joshua for being a “down low” brother if he didn’t stop ignoring him.
Joshua hadn’t been worried about the idle threats. Chancy didn’t know anything about him, except for the small amount of information he’d shared. He didn’t know where Joshua lived or worked.
The first couple of times they’d met up in a neutral location at a club called the Rare Olive just to get a vibe on each other. The conversation had an easy flow, and neither was uncomfortable in the other’s presence. Once they’d established that they were indeed vibing, Joshua agreed to go to Chancy’s place just for drinks and conversation.
Once there, Chancy played the gracious host and offered him a seat. He sat down on the cream-colored, leather love seat and surveyed the apartment. The place looked immaculate, with contemporary decorations which included a matching cream-colored sofa, glass-topped coffee table, a stereo system and a 42-inch plasma television. A bookshelf filled with a variety of Dean Koontz novels caught his eye. He wasn’t big on reading, but even he could appreciate such a prolific author as Dean Koontz.
“If you’re hungry, I cooked lasagna and garlic bread. It’s fresh out the over if you want any.”
Joshua declined. “I’ll just take the drink,” he said. Chancy headed to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Hennessy, a 2 liter of Coke and a glass filled with ice cubes. He sat it on the table in front of Joshua.
“Just help yourself. I don’t know how strong you like your drink,” Chancy said taking a seat on the opposite side of the room on the couch.
Joshua poured himself a drink from the bottle and added a small amount of Coke to chase it. He took a swallow and tried to relax. He drummed the fingers of his vacant hand on his left thigh.
Chancy cleared his throat and spoke. “You responded to my ad, so what’s up?” he asked. “I clearly stated what I was looking for. Now you’re here, and I need to be sure we are on the same page. Do you want to hook up or not?”
Joshua took another swallow of his drink and nodded. “I’m not one hundred percent sure though. I’ve never done…you know. I’ve never—”
“-fucked a man before,” Chancy finished his sentence.
“No, I haven’t. Because, I’m not gay,” he added.
“You’ve never done anything with another male? Not even engage in oral sex?” Chancy asked.
“No. Nothing. I’m new to this. That’s why…I don’t know. This might not be a good idea. I think I made a mistake coming here. I can’t do this.” He placed his glass on the table and stood up.
“Oh, don’t get scared now. I won’t bite you…unless you want me to. But, I will suck you until you run dry. That’s a promise.”
Joshua’s eyes bugged as he stared across the room at the feminine-looking dude.
He didn’t drink often and Joshua had made his drinks strong. The alcohol had gone straight to his loins. He found himself getting uninhibited “Is that so?” he asked, sitting back down.
“Um hmm. I’ll give you the best blow job you’ve ever received. I can deep-throat your dick without gagging, and I promise to swallow every single drop of you, with your super-fine ass.”
Chancy piled on the flattery and flirted with Joshua with no shame. Joshua ate it up. He hadn’t met a woman that bad and bold. He found himself letting down his guard because it was just the two of them. No one he knew would ever find out he was sitting in another man’s living room, contemplating having sex with him. He became curious and wanted to find out what Chancy was working with. He’d heard that gay men had the best oral skills.
“Before I agree to do anything, you have to promise me something,” Joshua told Chancy.
“What, Big Daddy? I’m all ears,” Chancy said. He sat on the couch with his legs crossed. He wore skin tight white skinny jeans, and a silk white button-down shirt, with a colorful scarf tied around his neck. He had the shirt opened, exposing his bare chest.
“This can never get out. Whatever goes on behind these walls, stays behind these walls,” Joshua insisted. “I don’t need anybody to know except the two of us. Understand?”
“I’m down with that. I know you so-called straight men don’t want nobody all up in y’all business. Whatever we do up in here, is our business,” Chancy emphasized.
“I’m serious, man. If I do this, I don’t want anyone to know. You have to keep it to yourself.”
“It’s all good, Sexy Chocolate. I’m one hundred percent in agreement. What we do will stay between just us. Now, do you want to keep talking or do you want to get down to business? I’m ready to show you I have no gag reflex.”
“Is that even possible?”
“I can show you better than I can tell you. Now, let me see those delicious goodies you got. My throat is parched, and I need some cream to soothe it.”
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