MY HUSTLER

By Ript Jock

Published on Nov 21, 2024

Gay

Hey guys, here's the seventh chapter in the series about 23-year-old Grady's relationship with Tyler, a 19-year-old hustler. Last time, Grady learned that trust is a two-way street when he walked in on one of the neighbors trying to make a move on Tyler. The boys solidified their mutual trust and commitment to each other when they decided it was time to ditch the condoms and go bare from now on.

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As great as things were between Tyler and me, it wasn't exactly what I thought it'd be like to have a boyfriend. I sort of imagined we'd be doing all kinds of things together, going out to restaurants, movies, activities or whatever... the stuff couples are always doing that isn't near as much fun when you're alone. But Tyler never wanted to go out. He always just wanted to stay home.

At first I thought it was a money thing. He wasn't making that much, and his paycheck got eaten up pretty quick just buying a few clothes and half the groceries. But he wasn't interested in free events any more than the ones you had to pay for. It really seemed like he just didn't want to go out with me in public.

I didn't know what the problem was, or if there even was one. He'd been through some pretty big changes in his life awful quick. Maybe after more than two and a half years of living on the streets, he was so happy to have an actual home that he never wanted to be anywhere else.

When I asked him about it, he insisted there was nothing wrong, he just felt like staying in and having a quiet night with me. And when I'd try to start a conversation, he'd snuggle up close to me and start kissing my neck and stroking my package. It was an effective distraction. I knew exactly what he was doing, and still it worked every single time.

If all else failed, he'd offer me his ass, and then it was all over. I'd never in my life wanted to go out for Mexican food or see the latest comic book movie so bad I'd pass up a chance to get in between those beautiful cheeks.

He'd drag me to the bedroom and strip me naked, then make a show of peeling off his clothes. We'd roll into bed together and tangle up in each other. There was nothing more exciting than the feeling of his body rubbing up against mine. We'd cuddle and kiss and tease each other, lick and suck and nibble and play. By the time I'd finished shooting a good hard load deep inside him, any conversation I'd wanted to have was irrelevant. It seemed like it was a stupid idea in the first place to even bring it up.

In early May, my old roomie Rob texted let me know he was having a party. His birthday was coming up... and mine was too. They were only a week apart. Last year, and for two years when we were in college, we'd celebrated them together. He was doing all the planning this time but he said it'd be my party too.

Tyler agreed to come along without too much trouble. It was for my birthday after all. His wardrobe was still in a primal state, more functional than fashionable, so I gave him one of my best shirts to wear. I loved dressing him up in my clothes; seeing my favorite shirt on his body had my dick hard in an instant.

"You wanna be my dog tonight?" I asked him. "Or..."

"Yes, please," he said quickly, snagged the collar off its place on the chest of drawers and hung it around his neck.

The party was on a Saturday night, in the "clubhouse" of the complex where Rob and I had shared an apartment -- a big open room next to the rental office that tenants could use for a not-too-unreasonable fee. There had to be thirty or forty people inside when we arrived. I didn't know there'd be so many; I guess Rob had been hard at work hitting the social scene. They were neighbors, coworkers, friends, and friends of all the above. Tyler immediately started looking a little nervous.

"Should we have got something for him?" he asked me, just outside the door.

"It isn't that kind of a birthday party."

"Are you sure? We could go stop somewhere..."

"I'm sure. The birthdays are an excuse, not a theme. It's just a bunch of people getting together to have a good time."

"Okay..." The way he said it made me feel like he wasn't sure he'd be one of them.

But he came inside with me anyway and we joined in on the festivities. A couple guys I remembered from when I lived there stopped by to say hi, and a few of their friends wandered over to see who we were. We grabbed a couple drinks and things were starting to get pretty convivial.

Rob was at the far side of the room holding court with his crew. I could see how he basked in the spotlight, the whole group hanging on his every word and then all laughing together on cue, someone else wedging in a comment and getting his own laughs, and then Rob picking up the ball again and getting the biggest laugh of all. Some guys never outgrow the frathouse. But he was an old friend and a good guy at heart, even if he was predictably vanilla.

"Come on, let's go say hi," I suggested.

Tyler nodded. We left our new drinking buddies behind and weaved our way through the crowd.

"Grady! How goes it, brother?" Rob was already pretty well lit.

"Hey Rob, good to see you. Remember Tyler?"

"Sure, how ya been?"

"Good," Tyler said. "Happy birthday."

"It was! On Thursday, two... two?... yeah, two days ago. This is just the aftermath. And yours...?" looking back at me, and drawing a blank.

"Next Thursday," I said.

"Right right. One week apart. Same as last year."

His crew burst out in a laugh like he'd just made a hilarious joke. Tyler looked at me kinda mystified and I gave him a shrug in return.

"Well hey," I said, "we'll catch up later. We're gonna go see who else is here."

"Right on, bro." He gave me a fist bump. I'd delivered an acceptable exit line. The other guys offered the obligatory best wishes and we faded back into the party to fend for ourselves.

Within half an hour the crowd had topped out at seventy or so, all of them straight except us, as far as I could tell. Tyler made quite a splash. Everyone smelled fresh meat; the girls fawned over him begging for his attention and the guys all wanted to be his buddy. That's how it is when you're a handsome young muscleboy in a room full of straights. Their hormones are screaming for sex, but their heads can't seem to decipher what it's all about. Yeah, I'll admit I enjoyed it, seeing those girls competing with each other, and the "straight" guys struggling to conceal sudden, unexpected bulges in their pants.

It was the same old situation I'd found myself in dozens of times, especially hanging out with Rob. People would assume I was straight by default. Any evidence to the contrary could easily set some heads spinning. This was Texas, after all. My instinct was to neither hide nor advertise it; if somebody asked, I'd tell them, but I didn't go waving any flags. Houston was accepting enough of the fact that people like us existed but making a point of it in a group of strangers sounded like begging for trouble.

As for Tyler, I trusted him to handle himself. I'd already learned my lesson on that. But it looked like all the attention he was getting had caught him flat-footed; he didn't know if he should just come out and say he was my boyfriend, or drop a few hints, or keep quiet about it, or what. Part of me wanted to step in and settle it, but I didn't want to embarrass him or maybe make things even worse.

Finally it dawned on me that he'd never dealt with a situation like this before. He'd gone straight from being a junior in high school, to hustling on the streets, to living with me. His experience in the adult world was limited to gym rats who didn't give a shit if he was gay, and cruisers looking for action who could spot him a mile away. Straight social gatherings of post-collegiate yuppie types with Greek letters still tattooed on their brains were like something from another planet.

By the time I figured it out, he'd gone off on a trip to the restroom. I decided when he got back I'd take him aside and explain how things were, and hopefully give a few pointers to help him through the night. Except... he never got back.

I waited and waited, sipping my drink and making idle chat with whoever happened by, but Tyler didn't show. After a while Rob came cruising up, taking a lap to spread himself around the room.

He looked me over. "Hey, you're still here."

"Yeah. Have you seen Tyler anywhere?"

"I saw him heading out the door a little while ago. I thought you guys musta left."

"Fuck. Okay, thanks, uh... hey, have a great night. I may be done here. Good to see you, man."

He smiled at me drunkenly. "Always, bro."

I walked out the front hoping Tyler was there just getting some air, but no luck. Tried the parking lot, thinking maybe he went back to the car, but he wasn't there either. Back to the party in case I'd missed him, but stopped outside the door for one last long look around.

Way off at the far end of the pool I could see someone stretched out on a lounge chair... and he was wearing my shirt. I hustled over and found Tyler looking surprisingly calm and peaceful. It was a second before I realized this was the exact place where we'd first met each other, some seven months before.

"Hey, Ty... you doing okay?"

"Yeah sure. How's the party?"

"Not really much fun without you there. Why'd you take off?"

A shrug and a weak smile. "Not really my scene."

"Not mine either, but what the hell, people were friendly enough. A little cheesy, but that's the way they are. It's how they relate."

He gave me a serious look. "Yeah, but they don't want people like me there."

It took me a couple moments to understand what he was saying.

"Everybody wanted you there. They all fuckin' loved you, to be honest. You were a major hit."

"That's cause they don't know anything about me." He let out a frustrated sigh. "What if somebody recognized me? What if they told everybody? They wouldn't want me around. They'd think I was a lowlife piece of shit. And then what would they think of you?"

So that was it. I still struggled sometimes to understand Tyler; his personality was like a grab bag of puzzle pieces. This was a big one that reached way down deep. It suddenly cleared up a lot. I sat down on the edge of the lounge chair, draped an arm around his shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"Tyler, I love you. That's the only thing that matters. Whatever anybody thinks or says about you or me behind our backs, I don't give a shit. I only wanna be with you, wherever I go, no matter what. That's never gonna change. And if anybody's ever stupid enough to say a word against you in front of me, I'll take his ass out. Okay?"

His eyes brightened. "Okay. But you don't really have to fight for me."

"I know. I'd do it just for fun."

He chuckled a little, and I leaned in and kissed him. His arm hooked around my neck and pulled me down on top of him and we made out on the lounge chair by the pool, both of us boning up in our pants without a care in the world if anybody saw.

"Ready to go home?" I asked, when we came up for air.

He nodded. "Uh-huh."

He was quiet on the way back; I guess I'd given him a lot to think about. But his hand was comfortably tucked between my thighs the whole time, gently stroking. I glanced over and he glanced back and smiled shyly, and stroked me a little harder.

I parked the car and we strolled through the complex, across the courtyard and up the stairs to our unit hand in hand with our fingers interlaced. It felt good to be home, in a place where we could be ourselves and nobody thought anything of it. Once we were inside the door I wrapped him up in my arms and we launched into a big romantic kiss. Damn, I loved holding him so much.

"I got you a birthday present," he told me. "Do you wanna open it?"

"My birthday's not till Thursday."

"I know... but do you want it now?"

I smiled. "Yeah."

He scampered off to the linen closet and dug out something he'd hidden behind the folded towels, brought it back and held it out to me all shy and blushing. The bag was from a sporting goods store. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't have time to wrap it."

"Don't worry, I don't mind. It's just as good this way, even better." I dug in and pulled out a little box labeled BIKE. Inside it was an old school jockstrap, industrial strength mesh and elastic. I'd never owned one before. I looked it over curiously.

"I thought since you're going to the gym with me now, you should be an official jock. But I got you a runner's jock since you're a runner. I like those better anyway, the waistband isn't as wide, and it rides lower on your hips. Do you like it?" He was clearly nervous, talking a mile a minute.

"Tyler, I love it. I really do."

"Do you wanna try it on?" he asked me excitedly.

"I'll have to get undressed for that."

A smile. "Yeah."

"You'll have to get undressed too."

A bigger smile. "Yeah."

He led me into the bedroom for the fashion show. At the side of the bed he moved in close and unbuttoned my shirt one button at a time, while I did the same with... well, that was my shirt too. We left them hanging open and wrapped up in each other's arms again, our bare chests and abs grinding together. His warm skin against mine, his muscles bulging and flexing, were fucking wonderful. I held onto him tight with the jockstrap clenched in my fist.

"Mmmm, feels like you've been working out," he breathed into my ear.

"I learned from the best. My dream guy, a real live muscleboy."

Without another word he stripped my shirt all the way off and began tugging at my belt. I stopped him just long enough to get his shirt off too, and then let him go to work. He had me naked and stiff as a flagpole in no time. Then it was my turn.

I unbuckled his belt and opened his fly. Slid his pants down to his ankles and wrestled off his shoes and socks. He stood there in only his dog collar and his briefs, cock bulging thick and fully hard and almost poking up out of the waistband. I peeled them down delicately, careful not to hurt him, tossed them aside and -- couldn't help myself -- leaned in for a nice long lick, but met the heel of his hand pushing back on my forehead.

"Nope. Jockstrap first."

I grinned back at him, took the jock in both hands, stepped through the straps and pulled it up to my waist. Boned as I was, there's no way I'd fit all of myself into that little pouch. But Tyler looked me over grinning, helped me adjust, stretched it here and there and stuffed it in. Like trying to hide a cucumber in a half-length sweatsock.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"You look great."

"It isn't too small?"

"No, it's perfect."

"Hmm." The way he'd said that had me drooling. "Would you want to fuck me when I'm wearing this?"

"I would, except..."

"What?"

He giggled, hopped onto the mattress on all fours and wagged his ass at me, looking back over his shoulder. "I'm your doggie tonight."

That was all I needed to hear. I stripped off the jockstrap in an instant and climbed onto the bed. That perfect ass was begging to be licked but I wouldn't let him have it so soon. I reached between his legs and scooped up his balls, jammed my face in and attacked them.

Tyler quivered and squirmed as the scruff on my jaw prickled his inner thighs; yipped helplessly as I sucked his balls into my mouth, one at a time and both together. I swabbed them with my tongue, rolled them back and forth, sucked on them and lightly teased them with pursing lips. His breaths were quick and shallow, and caught in his throat as I tickled the soft flesh of his perineum with my nose.

But I couldn't stay away from that ass too long. I spread his cheeks with both hands for a look; his hole was puckered, anticipating the worst. A flick of my tongue and he jerked forward and let out a little whine. I steadied his hips and dove in, licked all around that hole and pushed my tongue just a little bit inside.

Tyler grunted and yelped "Mmm... mmm... mmm..." as I went to town on him, licking and lapping with no restraint. It was special to us both. In all his time working the streets, he'd never been rimmed. Hard-dicked sleazebags don't hire street hustlers for that. It was still a very new feeling to him, more intense than he'd ever imagined. For me, it was the one thing we had that was ours and ours alone; mine was the only tongue that had ever entered him.

I kept going and going, shoving my face in between his cheeks, poking and prodding and licking. He was on another level, everything gone from his head but pure sexual instinct. His hole gaped open ripe and ready and he pleaded for my cock, begged me to fuck him, to own him, to give him release.

My hands had already searched out the lube and spread it over my shaft. I pulled my face back from his cheeks and slipped in two slick fingers to plumb his hole, gliding in and out with a hand pressed firmly to his back. He whimpered yearningly as I lined up with his hole and gave him the tip of my cock, pushed in slowly at first and then slid smoothly all the way in.

Tyler moaned as my meat filled his chute, like it was something he'd been longing for all night. I swear it made my heart swell just to hear him, to see the way his back arched and his muscles flexed and tightened. His whole body seemed to welcome me in and respond with utter gratitude. I began pumping, reaching in as deep as I could and gliding out again in an even, steady rhythm as he rocked dreamily back and forth with my thrusts, inhaling and exhaling with long deep breaths that told me this meant everything to him, the center of his world.

In the couple of months we'd been living together we'd come to know all of each other's signals. I could tell how he was feeling, if he wanted it fast or slow, rough or gentle. Tonight he needed a good solid fuck, something to rock his body and make him cum hard. He was embarrassed about what he'd said, I knew; his time on the streets had taught him to never be vulnerable.

In truth, those moments he exposed his self-doubts to me made me love him more than ever. But I understood the way he felt, and why he needed to get past it. If a nice hard banging would fix things, I was all in.

I bumped up my energy level and began driving in harder and stronger. Just as I thought, he egged me on with grunts and yelps that voiced greater and greater satisfaction the more forcefully I plowed into him. I gripped his shoulder with one hand, gripped his shaft tight in the other, bore down and railed him with all I had. He was practically sobbing but not in pain, more like an emotional meltdown. It was all I could do to hang in there, to keep giving it to him like a goddamn brute when my heart was aching for him.

Finally I couldn't help myself. I leaned in and growled into his ear, "Tyler, I love you so fucking much..."

And that was it. His cock burst in my hand, spouting a huge slug of cream all over the sheets. I jacked him and kept right on railing him and he spurted and spurted, his whole body bucking and heaving and his hole clamping down on my rod in powerful spasms as he drained his balls dry, laying down one white stripe after the next, crisscrossing our bed.

I sure couldn't hold back any longer. On the third or fourth spurt I let myself go, surrendered to the irresistible pressure and unleashed a thick hot load deep inside him. My ass cheeks clenched tight as I squeezed with all my strength, wringing out every last drop of cum to seed that beautiful stud. Our bodies jerked and shuddered together, our voices blending into one long desperate howl.

As we spewed out the last of our loads together, my arms grew weak and his muscles collapsed. We crumpled together onto the mattress, wallowing in the cum-drenched sheets. I cuddled him lovingly, playing the big spoon, holding him close and savoring the feeling of his juice smeared all over my body.

It felt so good to just lie there holding him in my arms but I couldn't help thinking about what he'd told me. He was just a young guy and so fucking sweet, a truly special person. I hated to think of him going through life afraid that he'd never escape his past, that somewhere, somebody would recognize him and he'd be marked as a street hustler forever. It wasn't fair.

But I knew before too long it would surely happen. We'd be out in public together and suddenly, somebody would notice him and throw it all in his face. I wanted so badly to shield him from all that. I would have done anything to make it go away.

I leaned in and spoke softly into his ear. "Do you like living in Houston?"

"I like our apartment. I like being with you."

"Have you ever thought about living anywhere else? What if we moved to a place where nobody knew us, and we could start over fresh?"

Tyler perked up and turned to face me. "Could we? Really?"

"I never thought I'd live in Houston forever. It was just a place to find a job, get some experience and save up some money. I always planned to move on some day. Maybe it's time to start thinking about it."

He gaped at me with wide eyes. "Where would we go?"

I hadn't thought that far ahead... but it was a knee-jerk reaction. Whenever anybody in America thinks about moving someplace else to find a better life, there's always one word that instantly comes to mind.

"California?"


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