Payton shifted his sore body around his sheetless bed after another restless night. He squinted his dry eyes as the warm afternoon sun shone in brightly. His bleached hair was sticking out in all directions, adding stark contrast to the black circles under his eyes. He knocked over a couple of empty beer bottles on his nightstand as he reached around blindly. He closed his pale hand around his coveted glass pipe, trying his lighter a few times until a flame finally rose. Parts of the pipe were burnt and black, creating a bitter taste as he lifted it to his lips. He lit the pipe in circular motions trying to scrounge what he could, inhaling mostly hot air. His lungs burned as he coughed, and his chest ached with each breath.
As he stood up, his lean restless legs convulsed beneath him. He picked up a dingy rag to wipe beads of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. He was starting to withdraw, and it was getting nasty. He felt thousands of invisible fire ants biting along his sensitive skin. Small noises echoed loudly around him as his anxiety skyrocketed. He needed his fix, and he needed it NOW.
Feeling a pang of guilt, he entered his mom’s room and rooted through her nightstand looking for anything to provide relief. Momentarily appeased, he’d found five dollars and an Ativan. He dry-swallowed the pill and jammed the scant amount of cash in his pocket.
He opened his flip phone and anxiously scrolled through his contacts. He prayed to himself as he started a call. The man on the other end of the line picked up within two rings. They made an arrangement to meet at a local gas station so Payton could score.
Payton rushed around his room, throwing piles of clothes around before he jammed his feet in a pair of shoes and took off. He slammed the torn-up screen door behind him as he started down the desolate street with new-found fervor. He could almost feel the dense white smoke billowing in his lungs. Cars zoomed past and honked as he hobbled down the street, dizzy from the heat. Thoughts of his remedy kept him marching onward as he propelled his body forward. One block, two blocks, three.
His head throbbed rhythmically as the shooting pain behind his eyeballs heightened. His mouth felt dry as he lit up a Pall Mall and pressed onward.
*“Thank fucking GOD.*” He sighed an exasperated breath as he arrived at the gas station and headed around back, away from the pumps. He staggered his way over to the familiar black Monte Carolo that promised sweet relief.
“Get in,” the unnamed man muttered.
Payton could see the irritation in the man’s face through the rearview mirror.
The man’s dark skin gleamed in the sun as he waved his arm out of the window, beckoning Payton in. He wore a bandana covering his mouth, and above his eyebrow was a small tattoo, covered behind dark sunglasses.
Payton felt the sun beating down on his head as he opened the door and scooted in, feeling the cool air conditioning on his perspired skin. He took a deep sigh before he knew he had to start pleading, “Hey bro, can you front me? I have five dollars, but I got you later man.” He felt that a promise was good enough. His eyes were fixated on the tied-up cellophane bag in the man’s hand, close within reach. His body jolted a few times as electric shocks shot down his spine.
The man gave Payton a challenging stare before he huffed out, “Man, you got me drivin’ all the way here for bullshit?” Frustration was building in each of them; the man was in need of fair payment, and Payton was in need of his dose.
Payton tucked his pride aside as he pleaded, “I can make the money, front me! Come on, please!” Payton’s bulging eyes were animalistic and wild. He knew he could eventually scrounge up the money, but right now he had no choice. He was dope sick, and it was getting worse by the minute. His teeth hurt. Everything hurt.
The man didn’t budge on his price as he stuck the baggie back in his jacket pocket. They sat in silence before he finally replied, “I didn’t drive over here for nothin’. You want the bag? I’ll cut you a deal.”
Relief poured over Payton’s stiff body. His eyes didn’t stray from the baggie as the man removed it from his pocket once more, carefully placing it in the cupholder. He shot Payton a sinister stare as he slowly unbuttoned his pants.
“You want the baggie? *Suck*.” The man demanded.
Payton’s eyes shot open wide. His jaw dropped in disgust! His first instinct was to swing and knock the daylights out of this guy. But he was stuck, bound by invisible shackles, he was a slave to the drug. His heart pounded and his body writhed in piercing agony. His nose started to drip as the sickness set in more. His distressed mind thought only of the baggie, just within reach.
The man slowly exposed his erect cock to Payton, wiggling it around freely in his hands. Massive throbbing veins wrapped wildly around his enormous black dick. His thin genital skin was shiny and tightening as the bulbous head became engorged with iron-rich blood.
Payton closed his eyes and silenced his mind’s shrieking protests. He trembled as he lowered his head towards the man’s gargantuan, rising cock. He opened his mouth wide as the head slid deeper into his throat, causing his tongue to flatten out. He curled his lips around the base and bobbed his neck up and down, straining his sore neck muscles. Each time he bobbed and lowered down, tightly curled pubic hairs itched his nose. A foul, putrid odor wafted up from the man’s crotch, causing Payton to gag as tears welled in his eyes. A mix of acidic stomach bile and thick spit dripped out of his mouth and down to the man’s rancid scrotum.
The man winced as he screamed out “NO TEETH!”
Payton’s jaw locked up as he tried to open it wider, his whole face in agonizing pain.
Payton jolted as he was struck on the back of his head. He saw stars behind his eyes and heard the piercing sound of his own ears ringing. The man’s cock jammed all the way to the back of Payton’s pained throat as he struggled to breathe. The man held him by the back of his head and thrusted his cock wildly, pumping more aggressively each time.
“You’re gonna swallow,” the man growled.
The man used both hands to prevent Payton from coming up to catch his breath. Payton’s mouth made sucking and gushing sounds as saliva oozed out, dripping down his chin. The man let out deep animalistic groans as his shaft elongated even more, getting ready to cum. The man tightly pulled on Payton’s hair as he approached his orgasm. Payton let out muffled screams as he squirmed, trying to back off. The man forced Payton to stay down as he exploded, bursting in orgasm. Watery cum shot out in pulsing spurts as it made its way to the back of Payton’s throat. Salty, filmy goo dribbled out of Payton’s mouth as he was released. He struggled for air, panting as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He winced as his stomach churned, threatening to throw up the semen he just swallowed.
“Get out.” The man gave Payton permission to leave.
Payton quickly scooped the baggie from the cupholder, gripping onto it for dear life. His fingers shook wildly as he stuffed the dope in his pocket. He heard tires squealing as the man peeled out of the lot. He didn’t turn back to look as he bounded desperately towards the gas station. He nearly broke out into a sprint to get to the fluorescent bathroom, ripping at the door handle and slamming the door behind him. Fingers shaking, he placed his pipe on the porcelain toilet seat while he fiddled with the tied bag. As tension in his fingers built, the bag ripped open, and its contents spilled into the toilet, leaving a dusty film atop the water. Payton let out a guttural scream, in torturous agony as his stash disappeared before his eyes.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gmj1yg/a_drug_affair_how_low_will_payton_sink_to_get_his