nursing a succession of watery sodas, while Jimmy had danced
with a succession of attractive men. If such displays could be
called dancing. To Curtis’s eyes, it had looked more like
dry-humping to music. A couple of times Curtis had lost track of
Jimmy, and he suspected that the accountant wasn’t his friend’s
first hookup of the night. A few men had approached Curtis, and he
had made an honest effort to flirt, but he wasn’t very practiced in
the art of courtship and it came out as spastic and clumsy. When
one man had asked him to dance, Curtis had answered, “I have two
right feet,” and only after the man gave him a puzzled look and
wandered away did Curtis realized he’d meant to say he had two left feet.
And now Curtis was shivering in the cold,
his bladder becoming more and more insistent, while waiting for
Jimmy to finish sucking off some guy whose name he probably didn’t
even know. Curtis scanned the parking lot; the night was winding
down, and the lot was empty except for eight cars. The windows of
the accountant’s Mustang were steamed over, but Curtis could just
make out the ghostly shapes of the accountant and Jimmy’s bobbing
head. Other than the three of them, the parking lot was deserted.
Curtis turned and headed for the corner of the building. With one
final peek over his shoulder, he darted around the corner and
unzipped, freeing his dick from the sweaty confines of the leather
pants and relieving himself again the side of the club. He threw
his head back and sighed, his breath puffing out like smoke.
He was tucking himself back in when the
screaming began.
When the accountant gasped out a strained
“Oh God,” Jimmy assumed he was nearing orgasm so he tightened his
lips around the warm flesh and swallowed deep, but the dick went
flaccid in his mouth even as the driver’s side window shattered.
Glass rained down on Jimmy’s head, a shard nicking him in the back
of the neck.
“ What the fuck?” Jimmy
yelled even as he heard the accountant scream. Jimmy threw himself
back into the passenger’s seat, trying to make sense of what he was
seeing. Arms reached into the car and were dragging the accountant
out through the broken window. The man struggled and beat at the
hands that had ensnared him, but his upper torso disappeared
through the window. His pants and underwear were still around his
knees, and Jimmy saw that the glass from the window was digging
into his bare ass, drawing blood that seemed much too bright to be
real.
As the accountant was pulled the rest of the
way out of the car, he kicked out and one foot struck Jimmy in the
side of the head, dislodging the stunned fog that shrouded his
brain. He reached for the accountant’s legs, but it was too late.
He heard the heavy thud as the man landed in the gravel outside the
car. It was dark, and there were no lights in this part of the lot,
so Jimmy couldn’t make out who had grabbed the accountant, but he
was sure he knew the type. Bigoted, redneck assholes who thought a
little gay bashing made for a fun night on the town.
Jimmy opened the passenger’s door and
started around the car. He had never been one to back down from a
fight, and he had personally taught his fair share of bullies that
he was no stereotypical pussy who would cower before them. He knew
how to use his fists, and he would show these fuckers—
When Jimmy got a good look at the attackers,
he skidded to a halt by the rear bumper of the car. There were
three of them, two men and a woman. One man was dressed in a dark
black suit caked with dirt; one man was wearing nothing but pajama
bottoms; the woman had on a simple purple dress and high heels,
although the heel of the left shoe was broken. And yet it wasn’t
the way the trio was dressed that froze Jimmy’s blood and made his
testicles shrivel against his body.
The man in the suit was missing an eye; the
man in the pajamas had his throat torn out, ragged and bloody; the
woman’s skin had rotted away in
with a succession of attractive men. If such displays could be
called dancing. To Curtis’s eyes, it had looked more like
dry-humping to music. A couple of times Curtis had lost track of
Jimmy, and he suspected that the accountant wasn’t his friend’s
first hookup of the night. A few men had approached Curtis, and he
had made an honest effort to flirt, but he wasn’t very practiced in
the art of courtship and it came out as spastic and clumsy. When
one man had asked him to dance, Curtis had answered, “I have two
right feet,” and only after the man gave him a puzzled look and
wandered away did Curtis realized he’d meant to say he had two left feet.
And now Curtis was shivering in the cold,
his bladder becoming more and more insistent, while waiting for
Jimmy to finish sucking off some guy whose name he probably didn’t
even know. Curtis scanned the parking lot; the night was winding
down, and the lot was empty except for eight cars. The windows of
the accountant’s Mustang were steamed over, but Curtis could just
make out the ghostly shapes of the accountant and Jimmy’s bobbing
head. Other than the three of them, the parking lot was deserted.
Curtis turned and headed for the corner of the building. With one
final peek over his shoulder, he darted around the corner and
unzipped, freeing his dick from the sweaty confines of the leather
pants and relieving himself again the side of the club. He threw
his head back and sighed, his breath puffing out like smoke.
He was tucking himself back in when the
screaming began.
When the accountant gasped out a strained
“Oh God,” Jimmy assumed he was nearing orgasm so he tightened his
lips around the warm flesh and swallowed deep, but the dick went
flaccid in his mouth even as the driver’s side window shattered.
Glass rained down on Jimmy’s head, a shard nicking him in the back
of the neck.
“ What the fuck?” Jimmy
yelled even as he heard the accountant scream. Jimmy threw himself
back into the passenger’s seat, trying to make sense of what he was
seeing. Arms reached into the car and were dragging the accountant
out through the broken window. The man struggled and beat at the
hands that had ensnared him, but his upper torso disappeared
through the window. His pants and underwear were still around his
knees, and Jimmy saw that the glass from the window was digging
into his bare ass, drawing blood that seemed much too bright to be
real.
As the accountant was pulled the rest of the
way out of the car, he kicked out and one foot struck Jimmy in the
side of the head, dislodging the stunned fog that shrouded his
brain. He reached for the accountant’s legs, but it was too late.
He heard the heavy thud as the man landed in the gravel outside the
car. It was dark, and there were no lights in this part of the lot,
so Jimmy couldn’t make out who had grabbed the accountant, but he
was sure he knew the type. Bigoted, redneck assholes who thought a
little gay bashing made for a fun night on the town.
Jimmy opened the passenger’s door and
started around the car. He had never been one to back down from a
fight, and he had personally taught his fair share of bullies that
he was no stereotypical pussy who would cower before them. He knew
how to use his fists, and he would show these fuckers—
When Jimmy got a good look at the attackers,
he skidded to a halt by the rear bumper of the car. There were
three of them, two men and a woman. One man was dressed in a dark
black suit caked with dirt; one man was wearing nothing but pajama
bottoms; the woman had on a simple purple dress and high heels,
although the heel of the left shoe was broken. And yet it wasn’t
the way the trio was dressed that froze Jimmy’s blood and made his
testicles shrivel against his body.
The man in the suit was missing an eye; the
man in the pajamas had his throat torn out, ragged and bloody; the
woman’s skin had rotted away in
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