I_Am_Marcus_Lennox PT 1

I_AM_MARCUS_LENNOX: FIRST RIDE

By GUE

DRIP...DRIP...DRIP...

The sound of a leaking faucet breaches the airwaves of the small hotel room as I sit quietly on my queen-size bed, feeling uneasy, this isn't working. I look down at my cell phone. The time reads 12:31 a.m., but it feels like it's already seven in the morning. I take a peek at my laptop to be sure, only to find that the time is now 12:32 a.m.

I must be doing something wrong, I pull up my Front-Page Ad to see if I uploaded it incorrectly. Opening the page, I am greeted with: “Ladies, why should the fellas have all the fun?”

The words sit in bold letters at the top of the page, followed by five pictures of myself. Some are shirtless, while others show me in tight boxers in a variety of poses. I start to smile.

I'm not a bad-looking guy: 5'8", slim but athletic build, big kissable lips, military buzz cut, clean-shaven except for my goatee and beard. My dog tags hang from my neck down toward my pecs, completing the whole “Bring Home a Soldier” package I was selling.

I can see the marketability.

Now, I'm not the talented Chris Brown or the beloved Idris Elba, although I have gotten “a brown-skinned Donald Glover” from time to time, either way, I haven't gotten many complaints, the ad sounds and looks exactly how I planned it.

I look back at the clock, 12:40 a.m, I got here at 10:00 p.m 2 days ago, so what am I missing?

I slaved over articles, researching different poses, other escorts and porn stars in this line of work, Sex work is hard. I did it all, from choosing the right pictures and accenting my font and text, to taking photography classes and checking out YouTube videos on what makes an appealing dick picture. I put so much science into this that somebody should call Neil deGrasse Tyson to fact-check me. I'm hitting all the checks, yet my phone and inbox are still as dry as this summer heat.

I step outside to clear my head.

Though it's warm, the air feels nice as a slight nighttime breeze flows through my tank top and Army PT sweats. I look off into the distance and see the neighboring Bargain Bin, its lights blinding the night sky and making the stars disappear. Maybe I just wasn't cut out for this line of work, hell, ever since I got out of the military, I don't seem to be cut out for any type of work.

No big-business job. No nine-to-five. I can't even get calls back from most side jobs just to make ends meet, why didn't I stay in the military, you ask? The military was good to me. The pay was great, I got to travel, and it gave me a chance to get away from Oklahoma City and experience something different.

I just felt like there was more out there for me. Like I was meant for something more. Like I had a purpose, just like every other human being on this planet, now? Now it seems escorting isn't my go-to either….so what is? I sigh and watch a couple of people walking around the motel.

The hotel seems to complement its sixty-dollar-a-night price tag perfectly: bruised, unpainted walls, metal stairs, a sea of trash scattered across the small parking lot, and plenty of escorts and sketchy people walking around.

For a male client, this might be nothing more than another place to get a nut. But for a female client? I couldn't imagine this being the kind of place she'd want to escape reality in—especially with my next-door neighbor screaming at his television in Spanish.

From helping my grandfather with handyman work and living off my military stipend, which isn't much, by the way. I managed to scrounge together a good $175. That would've been a decent pocket change if I hadn't spent $130 of it on this hotel room for the weekend, hoping I could actually make some money. Instead, two days of “maybes” and curious old “friends” hitting me up just because they wanted to know the tea went by quickly.

Now I'm on the last day. And it feels like the whole weekend was a waste, this isn't what I had in mind. This was supposed to be my last shot, my last shot to prove that following my own path could actually work. I had already tried doing things the normal way, jobs, applications. interviews. Waiting for somebody else to decide whether I was worth hiring.

I thought this could be different, something I controlled, something where, for once, I could bet on myself. Instead, here I am sitting in a sixty-dollar hotel room with forty-five dollars left to my name and a phone that refuses to ring. I can't help but think back to the first time the idea of this kind of work was ever planted in my head. It makes me reflect when I first heard

about this type of work.

She sits squatted on the floor at the edge of my military bunk between my legs, silently but firmly stroking my tip. Her smoky hazel eyes hypnotize my inner soul as she looks up at me, craving my scent as I crave hers. Each hand stroke has a deeper meaning besides the basic up and down, no, her fingertips have a purpose.

Her left hand slides up and down my shaft while her right finds a spot underneath my balls. Her $75 red nails then stray away from my dick, leaving more than enough room for her fingers to find their long chocolate dessert.

I look past her Medusa-like hazel glare to see 40DD bronze breasts bouncing between my right knee and her arm. For someone who is on her third child, her body hides that very well. A mini fupa protrudes under her chocolate mounds and nipples, with stretch marks creating a trail to her treasures hidden below. Her breasts seem to hide the fact that she has any children.

Above her right breast, on the side of her right shoulder, I find a red rose embedded in her dark chocolate skin. Connected to the rose is a black line attached to a cursive “I” that connects to a set of letters.

FREDII spells out in black ink.

I soon lose interest in the spelling when I see bright red lips slowly going down onto the tip of my member. Her mouth feels cold as her painted lips reach down to the seven-inch mark of my nine-inch manhood. I feel her tongue wiggle around the vein of my lower rod, making my balls do a little dance.

All through this, her eyes stare deeply into mine, never breaking focus and pulling me into a tranquil trance…A pro at this? Or maybe a succubus.

Either way, she doesn't let up her glare as she slurps and swallows the rest of the inches. My chocolate rod is covered in glistening spit. Her sloppiness is satisfying. I lay back on the military bunk, groaning and letting her operate.

By this time, I am hard as stone. This woman has everything and more for someone in her line of work. Her seven-inch record soon disappears behind bright red lips as she gets all the way down to the base, sending vibrations throughout my pole. She is so deep that her upper lip touches the center of my V-cut, she looks up at me smiling.

Definitely a pro.

I hear her gag, but she continues to hold her mark, making my tip vibrate with such velocity. Finally, she comes up off my length, a stream of saliva following a happy trail down toward her 40DDs, her chocolate chips now pointing at their next victim.

Without budging, she looks at me and smiles, definitely a succubus, as drool drips down her bright red lipstick as she devours her meal with ease.

Pulling out a condom, she quickly rips it open with one hand, puts it in her mouth, and does a magic trick down my shaft, making sure the condom is snug and fitted. She finally crawls over me. Seeing her thick legs complement her thick ass makes me grab and squeeze, feeling her smooth, soft chocolate skin.

I want her now more than ever.

Her breasts are so juicy with such a small waist. The allure drives me crazy as I bite into one of her nipples. Now she is positioning herself to take in every inch of my manhood and with a plop, she slides down about two inches. Her wetness is doing the trick. She's drenching it.

Fredii moans devilishly as she continues to grind, moving up and down and getting more and more of my shaft inside her. I hold on to her as she does a balancing act on me, lower and lower, deeper and deeper.

She feels amazing.

Fredii dances as she rides me like a drunk girl at a rodeo bar. She finally gets wet enough that all of my shaft fits snugly inside her moistness, my V touching her V in a furious tango as the sensation tingles through my waist. I rotate her through on my military bunk as I raise my knees to prop her up on my legs as I grip her juicy, plump ass and begin to slam. Faster and deeper, I push like a drill driving into a screw.

“FUCK!” Fredii screams, loving every bit of the ride she is on. She starts to grind harder, rubbing against my trimmed abdomen. Deeper and faster we go, her juices starting to drench my sheets and the space between my legs.

I get into it so much that I begin spreading her cheeks to get deeper, letting my spear hit its mark. I can feel Fredii's heavy breathing beneath me and hear her cursing loudly. I'm sure my battle buddies surrounding my dorm can definitely make it out, but I stay focused on her big chocolate mounds.

I tease her nipples with my fingers, gripping her juicy breasts as she slams down on my member, her ass rippling with each thrust.

Suddenly, I feel a shake and hear a loud:

“OOOOhhhhhh!”

Both of us crumble onto the bed like two wrestlers fighting for the Heavyweight Championship.

She looks over at me in astonishment as I reach for my glasses. Seeing her staring at me, then down at my package with a look of bewilderment, I finally speak up, as I pull her closer.

“What’s up?!” I state

She takes one more look at my nine-and-a-half-inch dick, still at full attention, and then smiles a half-crooked smile as she players with her toy.

“Mm-hmm…” she expresses. “Boy, no matter how many times I look at you, and then… at that…” She stops and points down at my shaft. I laugh and start to scoot out of the bed.

“Funny, I’ve been told that tons of times,” I state as I discard the used condom and wash my hands.

“Well, it’s true…” she says in a moaning manner, laying in the bed looking at the ceiling, still sweating from the earlier sparring session. She gets up and goes to the bathroom. Her voice echoes from behind the heavy bathroom door.

“…For someone so skinny,” she continues, “…it is amazing how endowed you are.”

As she talks, I head to my closet and start putting on some jeans and a button-down shirt.

“Why, thank you. I guess that weight had to go somewhere,” I joke.

“I’m serious,” she yells from behind the door. “I am 40-plus, 25 in woman age, and I have never come across a skinny dude that can put it down like that in the bedroom. I mean, I’ve heard about y’all, but never… DAMN!” I laugh to myself as I lace up my shoes and go to the mirror to check myself out.

“Is that so? I joke "Maybe I should be the one getting paid instead of doing the paying…”

The water from my shower cuts off abruptly. I chuckle as I wait for a response, but I hear nothing.

No sound.

No movement.

Just silence.

Before I can call out to Fredii, the door swings open. She steps out wearing a nice, thin black dress that hugs her mature yet beautiful body. Her 40DDs are pushed up nice and perky as a V-cut opens down her chest to the top of her black bra. The tail of the “i” from her “Fredii” tattoo is concealed by the over-the-shoulder strap, but Fredii is still visible.

She moves over to the bathroom mirror where I am, picks up an envelope marked Electric Bill Money, opens it, and quickly counts the bills inside.

Then she gives me one of the most curious and intriguing glares with those hypnotizing hazel eyes.

“Maybe…” she says as I study her face

She pauses.

“Maybe you should…”

BRNNNZZT! BRNNNNNZZT! BRNNNNZZTT!

I snap out of my trance and see my phone vibrating, an unregistered number is calling. Rushing back into the hotel room, I quickly pick it up in hopes of a sale.

“H..Hello,” I say in the sexiest voice I can muster, though I think a hint of nervousness pierces through my appeal.

I wait for a response.

Silence at first.

Then:

“HELLO, THIS IS PROVRY COMMUNITY COLLEGE. WE SEE YOU HAVE A STUDENT LOAN OF SEVEN THOU—”

I quickly hang up and throw my phone onto the bed, fucking automated messages. Student loans are the last thing on my mind, and now I’ve wasted $130 out of the $175 I had on this small but quaint hotel room.

I am at the end of my rope, I grab my head annoyed by the circumstances..I need to take a break. Grabbing my phone, hotel key, and wallet, I start making my way toward the Bargain Bin next door.

As I close my door and make my way toward the sidewalk, I’m alarmed by a loud, slurred but sultry voice:

“Heyyyyyyy, sexy!”

I look up toward the floor I just left, trying to locate the voice, and find two beautiful women, one is white, the other is Black.

The white girl is thick, with dirty-blond hair falling to her shoulders and deep dimples in her cheeks. She sports small booty shorts that let the bottoms of her ass stick out just enough for you to make out every crease and dimple in her peach-flavored rear.

My eyes going higher, I see her belly slightly hanging over her buttoned-down shorts and a belly-button ring with an amethyst stone hanging from the hook. A nicely done teal-and-lavender butterfly tattoo trails downward into her shorts, toward what I assume is her inner sanctum.

Finally, I see that she’s wearing a crop top cut down the middle, where her breasts hang ever so pleasantly. I’d say she’s probably a 36C, with nipple piercings sticking out beneath the light-pink shirt, illuminated by the hotel lighting.

Her slim, dark-skinned friend has some of the prettiest short jet-black hair, curling around her head. She is dressed more modestly than her associate, wearing a dark-blue halter with bell-bottom pants. Her arms are covered in tattoos, though I can’t make out the designs.

Her breasts are much smaller than her friend’s, probably an A cup, but that doesn’t stop her nipples from protruding through the top. A small nose ring completes the appeal.

Both of them seem to be drunk, or high….possibly both

“Hi, Daddy!” the white girl shouts, I catch a hint of Southern hospitality in her voice.

“Where you off to in such a rush?” she continues.

“Just to the Bargain Bin to grab a bite…” I retort, the black girl seductively bites her lip as they both watch me head to the street. The friend’s voice is slightly deeper than her friend’s.

“Well, I see something I wouldn’t mind biting into…” she says, her speech slurring into forming words. Before I can respond, the white woman yells jokingly:

“Bitch!!!!” The southern girl screams

Both women giggle drunkenly, I laugh too and continue toward the Bargain Bin leaving them to their nightcap.

Late night at the Bargain Bin is the same as a low-grade strip club. Women, some average, some model-type, walk around in all kinds of sleepwear and revealing clothing, you name it, you can see it.

Anything from Keisha in some cartoon pajamas and a bonnet, to the Beverly “I want to speak to a manager” type in a see-through bra and undersized jeans.

With it being a late-night Saturday, you can believe there is nothing but ass and breasts flowing around, it would make you feel like you were in a BET Uncut video.

Switching my focus, I start to notice the workers of the Bargain Bin, Some young, Others old.

All running around like mice on a wheel.

This place has always intrigued me. I have been stressing about finding a job so much that it’s gotten me into the predicament I’m in now. But looking at the workers here, with eyes that seem to droop and minds that seem to be here just for a paycheck, working like robots, I know they’d rather be somewhere else, anywhere else on this warm weekend.

Yes, before you ask, I’ve applied for every job from weed trimmer to door-to-door salesman, with Bargain Bin being somewhere in between, I’ve been told everything from:

“You’re underqualified.”

To:

“Are you sure you want this job?”

Or:

“You aren’t what we’re looking for.”

I enter the candy aisle and see chocolate stars, something I’ve learned to be to Fredii’s favorites, I lose myself in my thoughts again.

“So, were you serious about that?” I ask, looking out the passenger-side window, I am riding in a car, the streetlights of the highway flashing by.

“Serious about what?” Fredii replies. Her left hand is at ten while her right is at twenty-four as she pours chocolate stars into her mouth. The road is illuminated by streetlights, casting shadows over her brown face. I glance at her, still unsure of what I’m about to say.

“The sexwo...the escorting,” I utter, still trying to understand what I am spitting out

Fredii laughs.

“Oh, trust me, you are more than ready!” she says, focusing on the road.

“Don’t worry. When you get in here, just be yourself. These things are by request only. If you do not want to commit, then just say no. They can’t get mad, they can’t throw fits, but they will behave or Jerry will throw their asses out.”

She pauses, starting to get lost into the long stretch of highway, I notice her hazel eyes seeming to remember.

“Besides, right now, you are here to watch.” She stays looking ahead, I decide not to question.

We pull into a small apartment complex off the highway, Fredii turns off the engine and looks at me. Her high is coming to an end.

“Now, before we go in here... I have to tell you, this party isn’t like any party.”

Fredii looks up at the complex as if memories are starting to flood back.

“You are going to see a lot of shit, you are gonna see a lot of people you know.” I see the look in her eyes, trying to piece together what is going on in her head.

Before I can answer, she turns to me, smiling with those big brown hazel eyes.

“You’ll do fine.”

We walk up the cold metal stairs to an apartment overlooking the pool area. Music is booming from inside, and I’m surprised they haven’t gotten shut down yet.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Fredii knocks on the door, I see the curtain quickly open and close. Suddenly, the door swings open as purple lights flash and slow jams boom throughout the apartment. A dark-complexioned man with dreadlocks opens the door in a silky turquoise kimono. The kimono does not cover much as his chest glistening with sweat, and his belly hangs over his boxers. He looks at us both with a big, devilish grin.

“FREDII! Look at you, girl!” The man laughs out loud the music and smoke still bellowing from the small apartment, Fredii smiles.

“Hey, Jerry!” They hug as if they haven’t seen each other in years, Jerry’s cologne strongly hits my nostrils.

“Girl, I haven’t seen you in forever!” Jerry says, grinning, his gold tooth shining in the apartment lighting. Fredii blushes and looks down.

“I know, right? Just been busy trying to survive and take care of my kids..” she says.

“I know that’s right! I GOT FORTY!” Jerry cracks up at his own joke.

This guy is a trip, I think to myself, letting out a slight chuckle. Both Jerry and Fredii look at me, as silence hits the conversation. I feel a bit unsettled.

Jerry takes his eyes off me for a second and looks at Fredii, then back at me.

“Um... who is this?” Jerry ask, for a few moments, it is so silent you could hear a pin drop as Fredii, Jerry, and I all stare at each other awkwardly, Jerry more focused on me.

“THIS is Mit—... um, Marcus. Marcus Lennox. He is one of my co-workers, I told you about him coming..” Fredii says, breaking the silence.

Jerry stares through me, his beady eyes staring into my soul, Jerry smacking his lips against his gold tooth.

“...Marcus, huh...You looking kind of 5-0 my boy..” he proclaims unconvinced, his hands resting on his hips. I feel uneasy, looking from Fredii, then back down to Jerry, unsure on what to do or say.

Suddenly, Jerry bursts out laughing, looking toward Fredii as she awkwardly laughs and stares at me. Jerry puts his hand on my shoulder, still laughing at his joke.

“You alright, boy. I knew I could git you...” Jerry continues

Still chuckling, I look toward Fredii as she slightly shrugs.

“Y’all come on in the party... it’s on fire!” as he drags us into the party.

As soon as I step inside, I get a whiff of various smells, from bitter yet manly colognes to sweet and sensual perfumes. In every direction, my eyes meet something different. Drugs and alcohol of all sorts.

Pick your poison.

Cocaine, Xanax, ecstasy, weed, cognac, rum, and gin, from afar, I can hear rough sex. Moans and grunts become louder and louder.

“Welcome to my Haven, I have everything you need to enjoy yourself!” Jerry says, interrupting my daze, then he looks at Fredii.

“Fredii, come talk to me, let’s talk business” As they leave, I awkwardly explore deeper into the small, congested apartment.

My eyes meet people with their tongues deep down each other’s throats and others looking to get their fix, all types of vices cloud the apartment like I just stepped into a portal to another world.

“Forta!!!!!”

A booming yet exhausted voice breaks through the air, a familiar but booming exhausted voice. Turning around, I am met by a familiar face, SGT. Rivera is a tall, well-built Hispanic guy with a buzz cut and a slightly raspy yet firm voice, he is one of the Sergeants in my battalion, I have seen him around plenty of times.

“What are you doing here, TROOP?” he asks, his eyes droopy.

I’m taken aback at first, Fredii said I would meet people, but I didn’t think people from my own brigade, how many people were into these types of parties. I then ask him the same thing, back to him, his drunken face is shocked at first but with a shocked look on his face, he clears his throat.

“…Be at PT Monday morning…” mumbling under his voice while he walks away.

I continue farther into the apartment, sex and sin fills up every part of this apartment, it seems so small outside but inside the hallways and rooms begin to stretch endlessly. Fredii and Jerry are nowhere to be found. Now I’m standing in the hallway between two rooms filled with sex noises. One door is slightly cracked, so I decided to take a peek inside.

There stand two Black guys. One is lanky while the other is built heavier, both looking to be in their early thirties, then my eyes meet three women.

One is a curvy Latina. Her curls are sweated out as she faces away from the heavier man mounting her, she has sweated out her curls. Her big breasts spill over her bra, then I lay my eyes on two black women.

One is dark-skinned, with nipple piercings that you could spot from a mile away. She lies on her back while the Latina pleases her, making eyes at the heavier man behind them, her moans filling the room.

The other woman, fair-skinned, is on her knees pleasing the lanky gentleman, they all look to be having a satisfying time.

I can hear the sounds of the woman pleasing the lanky man as spit travels from the tip of his penis toward the floor. At one point, his penis disappears as she swallows it.

“Agghhh fuck,” he moans as her throat opens for him.