Dwayne, a blue collar worker in the '60s

"Y'know, son, I just wanna know, what's a young buck like you doing in a neighborhood like this?" the police officer said, looking over the 25 year old in green coveralls.

"We're in neighborhoods like this one every day. We're in this neighborhood every four days or so," Dwayne said, trying to keep calm and nonchalant. His eyes darted to the patrolman's badge. Lionel O'Doherty He'd have to look him up later. He probably had a pretty young wife.

"You can't do your job in colored neighborhoods?"

"No, sir, we're a landscaping company. Colored folks, we do our own lawns. Gotta go to the nice neighborhoods to get paid," Dwayne said, keeping his fists closed and next to his waist. Take me out, and beat him to **** with your bare hands, a strange voice whispered in his head. He had picked up the Sinful Traveler a month or so ago, some part of black magic hoodoo he didn't believe in until it worked. It whispered terrible things to him, but it let him do wonderful things. He probably could beat a man to **** his bare hands now, but he found himself occupied with better things to do.

"You're a tall one, people are gonna notice you stalking around, I hope you realize."

"Yes, sir, but I was only doing my job. People around there know me. I stick out, and I'm polite." Dwayne was 6'5 and short for his family. His younger brother had a scholarship to UCLA and played for John Wooden. It was his brother and his college friends that got Dwayne into the black magic hoodoo.

"What exactly were you doing?"

"Mr. Trujillo, he doesn't like hearing that the check's in the mail. He has one of us go around and hand out bills and take checks when we're in the neighborhood. He lets me do it, because I'm polite. Just ask Mrs. Austin at 223 or Mrs. Marquette at 236, they know me."

"Well, alright, keep your nose clean. Tall guy like you, gonna stick out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood." Dwayne was going to fuck this guy's pretty young wife someday soon.

Yeah, Mr. Trujillo gave Dwayne a big wide berth, after he started fucking Mrs. Trujillo, along with Ms. Carmen Trujillo, their 19 year old daughter. All it took was Dwayne suggesting that he stopped fucking the mother and daughter, and they started giving their old man an earful.

Dwayne’s blood was riled after talking to the policeman. Only one thing was gonna calm him down. Calm him and the Sinful Traveler down. He needed trim. We need trim, the Sinful Traveler corrected him. They needed some pussy, he corrected himself.

Mrs. Dorothy Marquette was once a prim and proper housewife. She often stared from behind the kitchen curtains, at the black and brown men tending to her lawn as they did their work. Like she didn’t trust them to not steal her azaleas. That was usual for their clients, Dwayne decided. But she was pretty. And she was the first client on his crew’s list the day after he picked up the Sinful Traveler. They had fucked a dozen times since then.

“You bastard,” she spat at him as he walked towards the front door of Chez Marquette. She tried to look stern, but he adjusted himself beneath his work clothes, and she got a good look at the outline of his pecker. She broke out in giggles and sighs. “You should know that I’m late.”

“What’s the matter with that, Dot?” he said, swinging his arm around her and grabbing her ass.

“My husband doesn’t know about us. I think he’ll be upset!” she said, melting into his arms. Dwayne doubted it. He was fucking the Perkins girl next door, and when her husband came home, the Sinful Traveler hissed at the guy, and the guy actually started demanding that Dwayne fuck the girl harder! As long as he was around when Dorothy told her husband, Dwayne assumed it’d go swimmingly.

He pulled her tight against him, letting her rub her butt along his hog. He liked this. Dottie was a hot little minx, and she knew how to fuck. She’s already pregnant, you fool, we need fresh meat! The Sinful Traveler was always about more, more, more. Dwayne wanted to be smarter than that.

Dottie had turned around and gotten on her knees. She was nuzzling his pecker through his clothes, breathing in his scent. “My goodness, I just can’t get over how good this thing smells. I want to bathe in it. I belong to it. I’m yours,” the last part was directly to his cockhead, not to him.

“Let’s get you inside first,” Dwayne said.

“Okay, but my niece is in there,” she said flatly to him, still enraptured by the outline of his peter through his clothes. She didn’t even glance up to look at him in the eyes.

“Niece? How old is she?”

“Nineteen, Joyce just finished her first semester, visiting California for her winter break.” The Sinful Traveler pulsated at the thought. That sounded like perfection for the demon in his pants.