The Porn Shop
By the King of Erotica



Yes that is me above, the KING of Erotica, Miami, Florida age 30

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A bit disgruntled about my check being a hundred dollars lower than usual this week, I entered the thriving business, clad in my work clothes. I was dirty, some-what stinky but the stench was softened by the Cool Water I sprayed on my while I raced outside my door to work this morning.

I walked over to the cashier, a young, twenty-something, rock-group-Disturbed-listening white man with blue and pink spiked hair and a gazillion piercings on his face looking like the Hellraiser’s long lost fairy god brother.

“Sup, mah man!” he said, giving me some skin. He talked and acted black, but the rock group Disturbed screamed about their “Sickness” from the radio demised any further thoughts that he wished he was black.

“I’m chillin, dawg.”

“Dawg, I like that word. You know I’m from Idaho, try’na make it here in good ole Miami.”

“Tell me about it.”

From the corner of my eye I see Dexter, another employee in this shop.

He walked over to me with a smile, as masculine as he wanted to be. He was hot, but I’d never tell him that.

“Sup, man,” he said, shaking my hand, looking me directly in the face. He turned the volume down on his Ipod. I was stuck, couldn’t say a word. He was so damn fine, Taye Diggs-type fine. But you know me I gotta keep it
G-rated.

“I’m chillin’, I can’t call it today, Pimp.” I checked my watch. I had thirty minutes before I had to be back to work from my lunch break.

“How is the day treating you?” he asked, giving me a knowing look.

“I need my daily fix.”

“How much…” He leaned up to me discreetly. “You giving me?”

“Fifty dollars. For a little suck on my dick,” I whispered in his ear and said, “Dawg, I like those Jordans,” to deter the white man who was looking Dexter up and down.

“Why are you looking at him like that?” some fat woman said, with three grown men behind her. “You didn’t see me in here waiting for you over here?”she went on, looking like Rosanne Bar’s sister.

Mr. Pink and Blue hair said, “No, honey, I’m sorry. Didn’t see you.”

“And I guess you didn’t see your grown step children?” she asked and all three of them, looking like something out of a comic book said, “Hi, Dad.”

“Dad?” I said, looking the boy over. “How old are you?”

He said, “Twenty-three.”

“And these are your step kids?” I asked. “The look older than you.”
Miss Fatso said, “They are! I’m married to Kenny, my pink loving husband. I love…”

I held up my hand, “I’m gone, Dexter holla at me.”

I walked off. Dexter said, racing up next to me as we approached a sea of porn movies. “I go to work in five minutes.”

“You working the Hole in the Wall Blow Job booth today?”
He looked at me, grinning. “Yea. So I get to suck on that juicy dick, dawg?”

“You g’on swallow?”

He went in the opposite direction, bobbing his head to his Ipod. “Yea. Go in Room number 5.”

And I did so.


Ten minutes later I was in Room Number 5. I always came to room number five, once a damn week, sometimes twice, if Dexter was sucking dick for the day. He was in college, struggling student and he took the job here at the porn shop as the man behind the hole in the wall. The public didn’t know he had this job, the wall kept your identity hidden forever. But I knew him personally, met him in the grocery store four months ago when I accidentally bumped into him and dropped three huge jars of Ragu spaghetti sauce and some of it got on his white Sean John fleece pants.

“Damn dawg!” He was angry.

I held up my hands and I would throw those thangs (fists) if he wanted to get saucy up in the store around all these crackahs. I pulled out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to him.

“I apologize, dawg. Sorry.”

He shook his head and said, “Naw, dawg take your money back. I’ma honest niggah, these pants I bought from a crack head up in Liberty City.”
We chuckled and I extended my hand, “I’m Kool,” I lied, making up a name.

“And I’m Dexter.” He looked frustrated. “Man excuse me but I lost so much money on the Dolphin game.”

“They sorry asses, but I love ‘em, dawg.”

We were on Aisle 4, talking and getting to know each other. It happened so naturally that neither one of us realized we were further building chemistry.

When I was about to flex he happened to tell me, after we, more vigorously, talked about how sorry the Miami Dolphins are this year, that he worked this porn store.

I was surprised. A fine man like him? He looked like actor Michael Jai White. “Doing what?” I had asked.

He looked around discreetly, waiting for the skinny white woman with a
whiny-loud-mouthed little privy, pissy child to walk by out of ear shot.

“I’ma keep it real. I suck on some dick for a little side money to pay off student loans...”

My eyes wide with surprise, my dick standing straight up, I said, moving behind the pancake display sign to hide my woody, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

And I have been coming here since.


“Kool? You in the room?” came over the intercom.

I pressed the little button by the little TV. “Yea.”

“Good,” he said, peeping through the hole. He chuckled. “Don’t look like
you’re about to have open heart surgery.”

I smiled. “Let’s get it on.”

The entire logic of this blow job game was to stick your dick in the hole and get it sucked by him. There was a painting of a naked Halle Berry right in your face so you could imaging she was getting your rocks off the cliffs of your nuts and not Dexter. But I found myself fantasizing about him sucking me up spitting my babies in Halle's mouth while she finger fucked Eric Bennet's gay ass.

I had my eyes closed, holding my breath. I unbuckled my pants, thankful I free-balled today. The air smelled like strawberries mixed with piss, but I didn’t care. I wanted a job performed, and I hoped it was done well.

“Sup, baby? Are you sure you’re ready?”

My eyes flashed dangerously. “I’m not your baby,” I blurted with an attitude, my smoky voice bouncing off the walls. My feet throbbed in my work boots, my pants falling down my ass.

“Damn you got a phat ass, Son. But I only do dick at work so slide it in.”

“In the what?” I asked, refusing to open my eyes. I didn’t know why I clammed up.

He was laughing at me. “The hole in the wall, slide your dick in it. Damn how many times have we done this?”

I did so, hesitantly and suddenly the small TV built into the wall came on and I heard an Asian woman being fucked by a cocky black man. I knew this because I opened my eyes and focused on the two getting it on in a way Marvin Gay never sang about.

“OK, there’s my Jimmy, suck it up,” I told him. He didn’t say anything. “Dexter, did you hear me?”

Then slurping sounds came from behind the wall, a warm, pleasurable feeling overcame me as my dick was being sucked all over. My eyes rolling to the back of my head in pure ecstasy, my legs began to shake, the warmth traveled down to the base of my nuts, I placed my hands flat on the wall, trying to reason with myself. I didn’t want to love anybody; I didn’t want to fall in love. I was afraid of it; I guess people failed to realize that behind love was hate. Love was Hate’s big brother, and sometimes goddamnit big brother got on your nerves, pissed you off and thought it knew everything about you, about the world and always wanted to be in your business.

I focused back on the tube because I couldn’t get off on this Halle Berry clone on the wall. Blackman spread the Asian’s cheeks apart and he stuck his tongue deep in her hole. She hat on a police hat and thongs. He had to keep pulling them to the side.

“You like the way I suck this dick?” asked the man behind the wall.

“Shut up and suck my shit.” He deep throats the dick, lets the tip of it rest against his tonsils, making them vibrate. “Goddamn! Goddamn!” I was about to go crazy. I tried digging my nails in the wall and the blue paint chips and flakes towards the shitty-looking marble floors. I was fucking him in his mouth, looking down I was admiring my dick vanishing and reappearing from the wall to his hot mouth.

I had to come, and I had to come now. A niggah just wanted to nut and then I had to go back to work. My hard hat nearly falling off my head, covering my left eye I felt fire sting my toes, slowly build into my loins and it popped in my nuts, I started to quiver against his tongue.

I channeled my autonomy, my lonliness. My arrogance, I channeled the fact that I'm tired of sleepign alone, that I'm too stuck-up to get a bitch let alone a niggah, I channeled the nights I cry myself to sleep because this DownLo Gay lifestyle isn't for me but I can't break free and I screamed out in sheer delight, “I’m bout to cum!”

I felt it spurt to the back of his throat, he swallowed my seeds, necking my dick, the entire nine inches like the pro he was and when it ended the TV shut off, the room went dark, the man was gone, his sexy voice, gone with him. I sat on the nearby chair, lowered my head and asked myself, “When am I going to go out and get a real man instead of coming to this porn store and sticking my dick through the hole just to get it chopped up? I can’t keep living like this, but I’m DownLo and this way I don’t have to worry about niggahs peepin’my stello in the streets.”

I looked at my watch: 1:34 p.m.

Meanwhile, Dexter came out of the bathroom. “Damn, I had to piss.” He gazed at his watch. 1:34 p.m. “…Fuck! I didn’t mean to leave ole boy before sucking his dick, don’t want to keep him waiting. Let me get out here. I know Kool is wondering why I haven’t sucked his dick yet, with his fine ass. But my wife is finer, gotta get home to her in a few hours.”

Dexter closed the business bathroom door and made his sexy way down the small antechamber leading to the wall behind all 15 rooms. When he got to room 5 he said, “Kool, are you ready now?”

Nothing. There was not a sound.

“That’s weird.” He got on his knees and put his right eye up to the hole in the wall.

The room was empty.

“Oh, well. Guess he didn’t want his dick sucked today. An easy fifty dollars for me.”

Dexter looked on the ground. Someone's come had been spat on the floor and on the back of the wall.

Dexter said, "I don't know who sucked him up but it damn sure wasn't me."


To be continued