[FMK] 12 Hard Inches: Chapter 3 (Patreon)

CHAPTER THREE

I waited in my trailer, heart pounding. I had no idea what to expect or who I could trust. Is at by the window, curtains mostly closed; there was just enough of a slit that I could see the street. I watched kids go by. I watched as my neighbours went off to work or came home from their graveyard shifts. Then, I saw Frank, in his cowboy hat and aviator sunglasses. He was walking with a grin on his face. When he looked towards my trailer, that grin grew, and I ducked down, not wanting to be seen.

I didn’t want him knowing that I was home, just in case he was going to tell his boss what he saw. I didn’t need him saying, “He’s at home if you want to go get him right now,” though I suppose my home was probably the first place Daryl would come looking for me.

I watched as Frank marched down, down, down the road, until he turned left, towards Daryl’s office trailer. I couldn’t remember the last time my heart pounded so hard. I needed a cigarette.

I didn’t like smoking in my house, unlike most of the other residents of that park. Even though I was trying to lay low, I still felt like I had to go outside to smoke, so I slipped out, with a ball cap tipped over my eyes. I lit a cigarette and looked across the road to see Brandi there, smoking yet another cigarette. Her freshly applied red lipstick was all over that long white smoke. She winked at me before calling out, “Best orgasm of the year.”

“Keep your voice down. You’re going to get yourself killed—and me too,” I said.

She leaned over her wobbly railing. “Why are you suddenly so uptight?”

“I just don’t think you need to be yelling out our personal business across the park, alright?”

She rolled her eyes. “As if my husband even cares. It’s not like he’s trying to get any.”

I was half-convinced that she wanted her husband to find out; it was her own way of saying ‘fuck you for not giving me the attention that I want.’ She didn’t care one way or another what happened to me; I was just a tool to achieve her ultimate goal of sticking it to her man. She needed therapy. Sadly there were no words to get her to shut up; I could only hope that she was in a better mood once her husband was home from work.

“Please don’t tell me you’re working early tomorrow,” she called out.

“I am. Why does it matter?”

“How early? Earlier than my husband?”

“Probably.”

“What time are you off?”

“Not sure,” I said.

“What’s the matter, Raymond? Wasn’t I good for you?”

“I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation,” I said.

“I just want to know if I was good for you. Wasn’t I good? Are you telling me that I wasn’t any good?”

“Just keep your voice down, alright?”

“Just tell me, Raymond! Did I feel good for you or not!”

“Yes!” I said. “It was fine, alright? Now keep your fucking voice down!”

I looked down the road and saw Frank coming my way, now with Daryl at his side. I turned to Brandi. “I have to go.”

“Go where?” she said. “Can’t be bothered to spend a whole cigarette break with me now? Jesus—I wasn’t that horrible, was I?”

“I told you: you were fine. I just—I need to go do some errands. I’m already running late.”

She had a frustrated look on her face as I retreated into my trailer. I hated leaving her in a shitty mood, knowing she was more likely to spill the beans if she felt like she had some aggression she needed to get out. But I couldn’t be spotted chatting with her. And I had to hide somewhere before Daryl got to my trailer.

I scurried around my trailer, trying to think of where I could hide. I thought of darting out the back door and running, but I knew that wouldn’t look good; Daryl would see me leaving, and the fast escape would look suspicious as hell. So I went into my bathroom and closed the door, but quickly felt like an idiot. Why was I any safer in that bathroom? If Daryl wanted to kill me, he was going to check every room.

And now I was running low on time. I had to find somewhere to hide, and I had to move fast. But I wasn’t fast enough. There was a knock at the door. My heart stopped. I froze.

The knock came again.

“It’s Daryl!” he shouted. “Open up!”

So much for trusting a prostitute. Now, I had no choice; I had to run. But wait—maybe it was better to confront him now, while there were people around. I put my eye to the peephole and scanned his body. He wasn’t holding a gun; he hadn’t gone by his house to get one. I took a deep breath.

“Open up!” he called out again.

So I opened the door. I put on my best fake smile, and then I let out a big, fake yawn, as if he was waking me up. “What is it?” I asked.

He stared into my eyes. His top lip twitched. He scanned down my half-naked body and then he looked back into my eyes, ready to sock me right in the middle of the face. “Wipe that fucking grin off of your face,” he said.

“What’s going on? What did I do?” I said, playing dumb.

“You know damn well why I’m here,” he said, sounding like he was trying to hold back an outburst. Frank stood behind him, arms crossed, grin on his chubby face; I still couldn’t figure out why that pretty prostitute was letting him fuck her—whether he could afford her or not.

“I have no idea,” I said, sticking to playing dumb.

“Don’t be cute with me, kid,” he said. He always called me kid, even though he was only five years older than me.

“What?” I said.

“Rent,” he said finally. “As of today, you’re three months behind.”

A huge wave of relief washed over me. I looked over at Frank again. He had a small smirk on his face, as if he knew everything, as if he knew he could use that secret as leverage against me.

“Oh,” I said. “Rent? I thought I got that to you. Didn’t I get that to you?”

“You know damn well you didn’t!” he snapped. “And if I don’t get it by the end of the day, you’re gone! Got it?”

I laughed, shook my head, and then I reached for the envelope that contained nine-hundred dollars: enough for three-months of rent. “Here you go,” I said. “I totally thought I gave this to you on Thursday.”

He stared at the envelope for a moment, feeling the thick stack of bills with his fingers. Then, he opened the envelope and counted each twenty-dollar bill. He held a few of them up to the light, to check to ensure they weren’t counterfeits. Then he looked at me. “Where’d you get the money, Raymond?”

“Work,” I said.

“You get some early Christmas bonus or something?”

“I’ve just been saving up,” I said. “What’s the big deal? What’s with the interrogation?”

And now, Frank had that grin on his face again. He was staring into my eyes, trying hard to look and feel like my superior. He thought that I had to respect him now. He thought that this was going to change the dynamic between us, but I would always think that he was a lumbering doofus, no matter what he decided to dangle over my head.

Daryl stared at me for a long while before turning away and heading off down the road. Frank remained on my doorstep, staring at me with that annoying grin.

“What do you want?” I said.

“You’re in hot shit,” he said to me.

“That’s none of your business,” I said. “And I’d strongly recommend you keeping it that way.”

“If you want me to keep my mouth shut, you’d better think of a way to make me real happy.”

“I’m not sucking your ugly dick, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“It almost seems like you want me to tell Daryl what I saw.”

I knew that I needed to be nice to him, but I just couldn’t do it. He’d been a thorn in my side since he got his job. He was out to get me, thinking that he would get some sort of pat on the back for taking me out. Sure, there were a few complaints about me; I threw the odd loud party and got the odd noise complaint. And sure, I’d been arrested a few times in the park, and Daryl really hated it when cops came around; it looked bad for the park.

But I wasn’t going to let Frank take me out—and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction he would get if I grovelled and begged him to spare me.

“So what’s going to stop me from telling him?” he asked.

“Your little prostitute,” I said. “If you tell Daryl, then I’ll tell everyone that you’re fucking a whore.”

“She’s not a whore,” he growled with narrowed eyes.

“Do you not pay her to fuck you?” I said. “That makes her a whore, idiot.”

“That’s none of your business. Whether or not I pay her—it’s irrelevant. We have something special together—something you wouldn’t understand.”

I had to laugh. I shook my head. “Apparently she’s good at her job if that’s what she’s made you believe.”

He pointed his finger at me and continued to growl like a frightened dog. “Don’t you tell anyone about her. It’s none of your business.”

And now, it seemed like the tables were turned. It was that easy to make him keep his mouth shut.

“And don’t talk to her,” he said. “I know you were talking to her at my trailer. Keep your criminal hands away from her. Got it?”

I rolled my eyes. I watched him walk away, stomping his feet like a frustrated toddler. Now, I was feeling stupid for giving his hooker so much of my cash. It was probably unnecessary; a threat was enough… but she wasn’t letting me in to talk to Frank, and she probably bought me the time I needed to have my own talk with Frank—so maybe it wasn’t a complete loss.

I was only inside for a minute before there was another knock at the door. I went to the door and opened it quickly, expecting Frank to be standing there, ready with his retort. But now, his prostitute was there, standing with a devilish grin on her face. “Ready for that blowjob?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

And I was tempted to turn her away, not wanting to spend more of my money—but she had a cute look, and we had made a deal; I wasn’t about to turn down a good BJ.

I let her in. I told her to get comfortable. Yes, it wasn’t yet noon, but I poured her a strong cocktail so she could get comfortable. “So you talked to Frank for me?” I said.

“I made him promise he wouldn’t tell anyone,” she said. “So you owe me.”

“Well, I don’t think he’s going to tell anyone regardless,” I said. “But thanks for doing that.”

“He had Daryl’s number open on his phone. I don’t think you realize how close he was to ratting you out.” She watched me with those sultry eyes. She really did look too pretty to be a prostitute… but she was older; older than me by nearly a decade. Her age showed around her eyes and her smoker lips. It also showed in her biceps: that loose skin that was unavoidable with age… But otherwise, she was beautiful. She had one of those faces that looked like it would always be pretty, even when she was in her eighties. She was now pulling out a cigarette, and I was tempted to tell her not to smoke in my house, but I had a bit of a thing for smoking women, so I let her go ahead. I watched her for a minute and she just grinned. “See something you like?” she asked.

“I never got your name.”

“Bambi,” she said.

“Like the deer?”

“Sure.”

“Isn’t the deer a boy?” I asked.

“I wasn’t named after the deer.”

“Don’t you want to know my name?” I asked.

“It’s Raymond,” she said. “We’ve been over that.”

“Oh. Right,” I said.

“Do I have you feeling flustered, Raymond?”

“There’s just a lot going on today.”

“Want to go ahead with the blowjob?”

I grinned. “If you insist,” I said.

“Okay,” she said. She walked up to me. She put her hands on my shoulders. She stared right into my eyes and grinned. Her mid-forties were obvious from that close, but she still oozed sex appeal. She leaned in and gave me a kiss. Her lips were soft, tasting slightly like cigarettes—but she didn’t buy cheap smokes. That flavour was curiously regal, like she’d been smoking whatever brand of cigarettes Audrey Hepburn smoked.

“You’re kind of hot,” I said.

“Just kind of?”

She reached down and let her fingertips glide over my bulge. She did a good job of finding my tip through my pants, rubbing in small circles, gently with those pointed gel nails.

“I mean—I can see why Frank likes you, though I can’t see why you would ever touch his disgusting body.”

“It’s my job, Raymond,” she said.

“I work at a shop, but if my boss were to tell me to scrub some shit-covered toilet, I wouldn’t do it.”

“Don’t be so rude,” she said. “He might not be my type, but he’s not filthy. He showers at least four times a day.”

“As long as you showered after seeing him,” I said.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said.

Then, she kissed me again. As our lips locked, I stopped caring about Frank. I didn’t think about the fact that I was sharing a woman with him—and probably with lots of other losers as well. Maybe I was a loser too. Maybe I wasn’t so great.

She put her hands on my shoulders again. “So, that blowjob,” I said with a grin.

“I’m ready for it,” she smiled, and then she pushed down, making me drop to my knees. It took me by surprise—otherwise I would have stopped myself.

“What’s this about?”

She grabbed the bottom of her short skirt and shimmied it up, revealing her tight panties. With the tip of her finger, she inched those panties to the side, letting her long, fat cock fall out in front of my face.

“Is this some sort of fucking joke?” I said.

“We need to work on your manners.”

“Take that thing off. It’s not funny.”

“It’s part of me, so it’s stuck there. You wanted to suck me, now suck me.”

“I never said that!” I gasped, jumping back up to my feet. I looked down and saw that huge cock swaying there, between her legs, looking almost like a small leg on its own. It was curved, with a hefty bulge right in the middle of the shaft. If I only had one word to describe that beast, the word would be ‘rugged’. Even the veins, which were throbbing, made it looked almost like it belonged to some animal: a gorilla or some other powerful jungle beast. “I’m not laughing!”

“You’re being an asshole,” she said. “Just suck the cock like a man. You agreed to the deal.” She had the biggest smile on her face, as if this whole thing was a huge joke to her. Now, I realized that she was on Frank’s side; she was with her client, and I was probably fucked with Daryl; they were probably just messing with me before they went ahead and squealed to Daryl, getting me killed with a 12-gauge shotgun.

“Put it away,” I said.

“Suck it,” she smiled. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Put it away or I’ll cut it off.”

She gasped. “You prick,” she said. “Guys pay a lot of money to be able to just look at it; it’s the biggest cock in town. And here I am, basically giving it to you for free. You could at least give it a tug—or a lick. I promise I cleaned it after Frank was finished with it.”

“It’s a shame, because you’re pretty cute—too cute to be a man.”

She crossed her arms and pouted. “Well, that’s because I’m not a man, you bigot.”

“Who are you calling a bigot? Were you not born a man?”

“That’s not your business,” she said. “Now, you made a deal. I’ve kept my end of the deal, and now you can keep your end. Or, I can call Frank and tell him to forget about the deal I made with him; it’s your call. And if that’s the case, if I were you, I would start running. I wouldn’t even stay to pack a bag—not that you have anything worth saving here.”

“I’m not sucking your giant circus-act cock,” I said.

She gasped again. Now, she was losing that smile. Her face showed genuine frustration; she was really offended by me. And maybe I needed to be more careful; maybe I needed to value my life over my dignity.

“Look,” I said. “There was a misunderstanding. I thought you were a girl, and I thought you were going to suck my cock. Let’s just pretend like this deal was never made. I’ll go get the rest of the money I promised you—and let’s call that the deal. You can keep Frank from ratting me out and I won’t bother you anymore.”

“That’s not much of a deal for me,” she said. “I could have made at least a hundred bucks by now just working the street, but I chose to help you instead. And now you want me to spend the next God-knows-how-long keeping Frank from squealing on you? I don’t even know you! And, you’re an asshole. You won’t even look at my cock, as if I’m some sort of freak. I have no reason to help you, Raymond. I’m sorry, but if you’re not going to man up, then I’m not going to hold up my end of the deal either. You can keep your money.” She reached into her bra and tossed the cash I handed her earlier. “I’d rather have my dignity.”

It was strange hearing a prostitute talking about dignity.

I looked down at her long, curved shaft: throbbing, half-erect, as if I actually managed to arouse her. “So, just let me get this clear,” I said. “If I hold up my end of the bargain, and I suck your cock… you’ll keep Frank quiet—right?”

She smiled and nodded her head, clasping her hands behind her back.

“This isn’t some prank—right?”

She smiled and shook her head, still with her hands clasped behind her back in that cute, youthful way.

I looked at that swaying cock again. I groaned. How bad could it be? At least she smelled like a girl. At least she was all shaved and smooth. At least she was wearing feminine fishnet stockings and that little lingerie skirt. It wouldn’t be like sucking a guy’s dick… right?

I went back to my knees. I tried not to shudder as I stared at the long beast. My God—it must have been ten inches long! I looked up at her and took a deep breath. “This better not be some joke,” I said. Then, I leaned in. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, reaching out with my hand to lift her fat cock up.

And it was fat: long and heavy. I grabbed it in the middle and it slumped, arching over my hand. I felt those throbbing veins against the palm of my hand. It was so warm, like bread that had just come out of the oven. It was uncomfortably warm.

I tried not to open my eyes, but I could feel her foreskin pulling back. I didn’t want to see her exposed tip, though I was about to put it into my mouth.

If this was a joke, I wasn’t laughing; I felt like I was sacrificing my pride, humiliating myself. I had so many friends who would have disowned me if they knew what I was now doing… And was Bambi going to tell Frank? Was Frank going to tell all of my friends? No—there’s no way that he would sacrifice his own reputation to ruin mine… not that he had much of a reputation to begin with.

But I didn’t even want him knowing that I’d been with a tranny, even if he’d been with the same one. I was going to have to beg Bambi to keep this a secret, no matter what. I was going to have to make her vow secrecy.

I let the cock into my mouth. I closed my lips around it. She groaned a feminine sound before slipping her gel-nailed hands into my hair. She gently pulled, playfully tugging me into her crotch, forcing more of her cock into my mouth. “That feels nice,” she said. “Move that tongue around.”

I refused to open my eyes. I reluctantly explored her shaft with my tongue and she moaned again. “Fuck, you’re good at that,” she said.

I gagged when her tip pressed the back of my throat. I held it together. I just wanted this over with. I didn’t like how warm it was; it didn’t seem natural. And it was getting harder; I could feel it stretching long; I could feel her foreskin pulling back, tightening around her widening girth. It was growing in my mouth!

I tried not to gag. I kept sucking. I reached out and gripped what I couldn’t get into my mouth and I squeezed. I did what I assumed would make this go by faster: I pumped her.

So maybe I was right about Frank: maybe he was gay. His go-to prostitute had the biggest cock in the city. I could only assume he was sucking her and taking it in the ass. Though did that really make him gay? She did look like a chick, after all… Was I gay for sucking her off?

No—this was against my will. I was doing this for my own wellbeing. Though thankfully, it wasn’t quite as bad as I thought it would be. It didn’t taste bad or smell bad, and it’s not like her shaft was oozing goo like some sort of slug. It was, in a way, just like sucking any other part of her body: like a toe or a finger, just bigger… at least that’s how I tried to think of it.

And she was making it easier by moaning like a girl, by swaying her body in a feminine way. She had those girly fingernails, gently scraping my scalp. And that smell was more feminine than any perfume I’d smelled before. Okay, so maybe it really wasn’t so bad; maybe this was a small price to pay for my safety… as long as she kept her end of the bargain and kept Frank’s mouth shut.

“That feels so fucking good,” she moaned. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

I heard the snap of her lighter. Finally, I opened my eyes to make sure she wasn’t trying to burn my trailer down. She was lighting a cigarette, smoking it slowly and elegantly. She looked down at me with contented, sultry eyes. “You like it, don’t you?” she asked.

I didn’t answer her. I didn’t want this to take longer than it already was. I just tightened my grip and pumped faster. I closed my eyes against and kept bobbing my head, moving my tongue around the way I would want a girl to move her tongue around me.

“Tongue my ass,” she said softly, sounding like she was holding back an orgasm.

I looked up at her, stunned and slightly disturbed. She was looking down at me with an expectant look, as if to say, ‘You want me to keep my mouth shut, right?’ I bit down on my tongue and then I went in, tugging her cock up to pull her whole package up, revealing her puckering hole. After a moment of hesitation, I pushed my tongue in. I gave her a rim job while jerking her off.

“Oh God, yes,” she moaned. “Oh God, yes!” Her voice was getting louder and louder and louder. She was getting closer to that orgasm. Soon, this would all be over.

But it really wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be. It really wasn’t horrible at all. In fact—and don’t you ever say this to anyone, or I’ll find you—there was something satisfying about it. When you go down on a proper girl, you never really know if you’re doing good. Maybe they moan and tell you that they’re coming—but how can you know it’s the truth? Well, with Bambi, there was no hiding it. Her foot-long cock was as hard as a rock. She was throbbing intensely. Her whole body was contracting as she tried to hold back that cumshot. “Put your mouth on my cock!” she gasped. And there was no way to fake what was about to come next.

I didn’t want to do it, but I knew it would only be a short moment of uncomfortableness. I put my lips around her tip just in time to receive a mouthful of cum. I groaned as it splashed around my mouth: shot after shot as she moaned loudly, trembling all over. I did it: I made a trans prostitute cum using my hand and my mouth. It wasn’t something I ever saw myself doing, but I had to do it for the sake of my safety.

As soon as she was done, I turned my head to the side and spat, wiping my lips with my hand. “Yuck!” I gasped.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you didn’t like it,” she grinned.

“I didn’t,” I said. “And I don’t like it—I can still taste it!” I spat again.

“Well, I know you liked it; but it’s okay—you don’t have to admit it. I get it. Lots of my clients pretend like they don’t like it.”

“I’m not one of your clients,” I said.

“Yes, you are,” she smiled.

“That wasn’t part of our agreement,” I growled, wiping my lips again. Now, I could taste her perfume on my mouth; it wasn’t going away, reminding me of the throbbing I felt in my mouth for so long.

“You know, most guys can’t actually make me cum,” she said.

“Don’t change the subject,” I said. “The agreement is done. You got your money and your blowjob—now keep Frank’s mouth shut.”

“Of course,” she said. “But don’t pretend like you aren’t going to come to me again for a good time.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Don’t be an ass,” she said with narrowed eyes. “You can pretend like you didn’t like it—I’m used to that—but don’t be rude.”

“Okay, whatever,” I said. “Let’s just… Let’s just be done with this.”

“Want me to come by tomorrow?” she asked.

“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want to see you again. The deal is done, so let’s just leave it alone.”

She grinned and put her cock back into her panties. I’m really not sure how she managed to bend and fold that huge cock to fit into those tiny panties. Then, once her little lingerie skirt was down, it was impossible to even know that she had a monster-sized package. She walked to my door with that big smile.

“We’re good, right?” I said. “You promise to keep the fat boy’s mouth shut?”

She giggled. “Well, I can’t keep it shut—he pays good money to keep it open. But I can keep him from squealing on you. See you later, Raymond.”

I watched her leave, and then I made sure the door was locked. Then, I spent the rest of the day sitting by the window, heart pounding, not sure I could actually trust Bambi with my life. I had no choice: I had to put all of my faith into the trans prostitute… What a horrible position to be in!

It was midday when Brandi, the trailer park supervisor’s wife, stepped back on her deck. Her makeup was smeared, as if she’d just been making out with another man. A few minutes later, an electrician emerged from her trailer, hair ruffled. I could only assume that he’d just fucked her brains out; I guess once in a day wasn’t enough for the park’s go-to slut.

And it just didn’t seem fair. Everyone was fucking her, but I was the one praying for my life. That electrician didn’t have to make deals with trans prostitutes; he didn’t have to suck any cocks. He could just walk away, as if nothing happened.

At least I was done… At least that’s what I assumed.