Marky needs some cash.
The dog puts a beanie on as he skulks out of his dorm room to the other side of campus. He doesn’t want any of his friends to ask where he’s going, so he does it when he knows everyone else will be at dinner and not around to pester him with questions. It’s dark and wet out so he figures he should be able to go unnoticed.
There was a posting on the Subreddit for his school, that if any young guys needed cash quick, they could respond to the post and set up a meeting time. Marky thought on it for five minutes before deciding that some cash – so he could eat something other than ramen for the first time since his freshman year – would be worth whatever he had to do.
He arrives where they agreed to meet up – the wall behind the chemistry lab. It’s on the far side of campus facing away from the road and everything else. The only people coming out here would be the janitors of the chemistry building dumping the trash and he’d hear the noise of that long before they could see him.
It’s dark. In front of him is the forest that campus is next to, then the mountains of Washington for hundreds of miles.
Marky waits there for a bit, going from looking at his phone to staring down at his shoes to looking down at his phone again. This could be anything, he figures, and if it’s something fucked up he’ll just punch the guy and run.
Just about when he decides he’s going to go hit his bong and break a square of ramen in half, he hears a man’s voice. “Hey.” It’s low.
A fox stands on the wall next to him, smoking a cigarette. He’s maybe 35, clearly Italian or Greek with a bigger build and a thick mustache. He’s wearing a black tank top that his stomach pushes against and red shorts.
“Hey, man,” Marky responds, not trying to blow his cover in case this guy’s one of the janitors who just got off shift. He looks back down at his feet.
It’s quiet for maybe 45 seconds before the guy speaks up again.
“Hey. I’m supposed to be meeting a Marky. You know a Marky?”
“That would be me.”
“Nice to meet you, Marky. I’m glad you came out here.”
“Yeah,” Marky says. “Me too.”
“I’m Dom. I texted with you earlier.”
“Yeah, I remember.” He scratches at his side. “So…”
“You’re a student here?”
“Yeah.”
“What year?”
“Umm… is this like going to be a whole thing? I have dinner to get to.”
“Don’t worry, Marky. I have all the money right here.” He pulls his wallet out of his pocket and flashes a couple of 20 dollar bills, but it’s hard to make out in the darkness. It makes Dom remind him of a mafia boss. “I’m just trying to get to know you a little.”
“Is this gonna be, like, gay shit?”
“Hey,” Dom says. “None of that. I just wanna know a little about you.”
Marky swallows. “I’m a junior.”
“So you’re 20?”
“Yeah, 20.”
“You like it?”
“I do, I do. Got my friends and my weed. Uh… I’d like it a lot more if I had some cash though, right?” Marky tries kidding around a little to break through Dom’s facade, but Dom doesn’t give anything away. “Yeah.”
“Do you work out?”
“What?”
“I said, do you work out?”
“Yeah, sometimes. I dunno. I’m already tall so, you know. Girls like me.”
“And you have other assets that girls like?”
“I don’t like what you’re implying, Dom.”
“What am I implying?”
Marky bites his lip. “I dunno. Whatever.”
“Marky, I have the money for you. All you have to do is volley with me. I’m askin’, what do girls like about you?”
“I guess. I dunno. I’m cool.” He grabs his shirt, which is a xxl when he’d probably wear a large, at the hem, then motions to his oversized pants. “Girls like my style. They like smoking with me.”
“So you’re kind of a stoner?”
“Sure, I guess you could say that.”
“With the oversized clothing and the beanie…”
“Yeah.”
“Do girls think you’re good-looking?”
“They do.”
“You wanna show me a little of what you’re talking about?”
He shakes his head. “Man, I– what are you asking me to do?”
“How about you lift your shirt for me?”
Marky balks. “Here?”
“No one comes back here, Marky. It’s just us,” Dom says, then quickly adds, “I’ll keep a lookout.”
“Fuck, no, man. I’m going.”
“For 40 bucks?”
That makes Marky pause. 40 bucks for lifting up his shirt is definitely worth it, when he’d lift up his shirt for a mid girl for free.
“I thought you said no gay shit,” he responds, his other concern.
“It’s 40 dollars, Marky. Just to lift up your shirt. You don’t want to do that for 40 dollars?”
Marky stares at his feet. This is definitely gay shit, he knows, but Dom drives a hard bargain. 40 bucks buys a lot of ramen.
“Fuck man,” he says, lifting up his shirt. The dog lifts it up halfway, exposing his tummy and his nipples. The air is cold against his chest.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dom says, pulling his wallet out. He deliberately counts out two twenties, then hands them over. “There we go.”
Marky lets his shirt drop and takes the money. He stares at it in his paws for a second, amazed that he’s actually holding it. Then he folds it up and puts it in his jeans pocket. “Okay. Thank you.”
“You want some more cash?”
“You got some more cash?”
“I do.”
He opens his mouth, ready to say yes, but then considers what he’s about to do. It can only go up from here. Even if this guy is a creepy gay mafioso, the money is so tantalizing.
“What do you want?”
“How about…” Dom says, “How about you drop your pants for me?”
“For how much?”
“40 more?”
“60.”
“60, then.”
He nods. “Fine.”
“Okay, then. Go ahead.”
Marky stands with his feet shoulder-width apart and carefully undoes his belt. With how oversized his pants are, the second he lets the belt go, his pants drop to the floor. With how big his shirt is, his jockstrap is covered, so he lifts that up before Dom can ask.
Again, he drops his shirt to take the cash.
“Wow,” Dom says with that same flat, low voice. “You like wearing jockstraps?”
“They’re comfortable. They offer a lot of support.”
“And the girls like them?”
He smirks. “They like sporty guys.”
“Would you take it out for me?”
“My dick?”
He expects Dom to have some witty response, but he simply nods.
“For how much?” Then he realizes he doesn’t want to put the ball in Dom’s court, so he adds, “For a hundred?”
“Okay. A hundred.”
“Fuuuuck,” he says. “Okay, fine.”
He wiggles the side of his jockstrap until his cock flops out the right side. As much as he doesn’t want to be, he’s half hard from all the attention.
“Can you get yourself hard for me, Marky?”
“Is that part of the…” he shakes his head. “Fine.”
Marky grabs his cock and shakes it a few times until he’s at full mast. Even in the cold, even performing for this man, it still takes nothing for him to get hard.
“Wow,” Dom says. “Was this the asset you didn’t want to tell me about earlier? Your big black cock?”
“Whatever.”
“How big are you?”
“I never measured.”
He puts his paw up to Marky’s dick. “Big.”
“Sure.”
“You wanna lift your shirt up?”
“You wanna give me my money?”
“Hold on, kid.”
Marky lifts his shirt, his cock going past the end of his thigh.
“There we go.” He pulls five twenties out of his wallet and holds them in his paw. “But… how’d you like some more?”
“I’ve done this much, haven’t I? What do you want me to do, jerk off?”
“If I wanted to see a straight college guy jerk off, I could see that online.” Dom laughs, the first time he’s done anything that expressive the whole time. “Cumming on him, though?”
It’s subtle, but his paw goes down to readjust himself and Marky follows it with his eyes. Dom is rock hard – you can even see it in the dark. As much as Dom’s been pushing, Marky never considered that he’d be getting off on this. His stolid expression and low voice, as well as the dark, hid the erection in his shorts.
“Fuck,” Marky says. “Are you gonna make me–”
“I’m not going to make you do anything. A hundred more bucks. All you gotta do is sit there.”
“You’re sick.”
“Do you want the money, Marky?”
He takes a deep breath. “I want the fucking money, but–”
“Good.”
“Hey! I said BUT.”
“But what?”
Marky takes a deep breath, expecting to start yelling. Instead, nothing comes out.
Dom smiles. “Let’s get this over with, then, and I’ll give you everything you want.”
Nothing again.
“Get on your knees, boy.”
And Marky, against his better judgement, does. The woodchips and dirt are cold against his knees. He barely notices that as Dom steps in front of him, an erection clearly tenting in his shorts. He drops his shorts to the ground and his briefs go along with them, making his dick spring out.
Dom’s cock is five inches and uncircumcised, with a fluffy bush of pubes above it. It’s not quite as repulsive as Marky was expecting, but he would still rather not have it in front of his face. The guy’s stomach hangs over his crotch a little. Dom puts a paw against the brick wall behind him and starts to jerk himself off, the tip of his dick just a few inches from Marky’s muzzle.
He grits his teeth as Dom goes at it above him, reminding himself that this is all for the money and no one’s going to find out about this. He thinks about his friends all eating dinner, wondering where he is. He thinks about drunkenly admitting he let an old Italian guy jerk off onto his face for three hundred bucks. The guy’s old enough to be his dad. He closes his eyes and breathes slowly as Dom grunts and moans.
“Yer beautiful,” Dom moans between two heavy breaths. “Yer fucking beautiful.”
And after ten long minutes, he finally lets out his load all over Marky. Dom gives no warning so he can’t move his head as two thick streams of cum land on his beanie and between his eyes. Dom lets out a loud grunt as his cum drips onto Marky’s nose. Marky sits there and takes it.
“There you go, boy,” he says.
He puts his paw under Marky’s chin and brings his head up, positioning his face towards Dom’s own.
“Hey. Smile.”
Marky does, the cum dripping down his nose and onto his paw.
“There we go. Good kid.” Dom pulls his red shorts back up. “That kind of hustle’s gonna get you far, Marky.” He gets the rest of the money out of his wallet and holds it out in front of him. Marky limply takes the money. “If you have any buddies who need some cash… you know who to call.”
And that’s it. Dom walks off into the night, leaving Marky kneeling there, his bare knees planted into the woodchips, cum dripping down his face, three hundred dollars in his pocket. He uses his beanie to wipe his face off and tries rubbing the cum out of his shirt to no avail. Marky looks in the direction Dom walked off and yells out, “DOM!” to no response.
Realizing that might alert a janitor to his presence, he stands up, tucks his erect dick back into his jockstrap and pulls his pants up, leaving a string of his own precum on the ground. He feels for the money in his pocket and counts it with his paw. One, two, three, fifteen 20 dollar bills. Then he heads back to his dorm room.