Cary’s adam’s apple bobbed
as Cary tried to hide his shame;
a heated blush effused his face
and fear, by any other name,
caused certain muscles to contract
in ways he’d never felt before.
Streetlight caught the rosy glow
of Cary, kneeling on all fours;
pants around the hairy thighs
of he who Cary knelt before
with active lips and tongue and hands.
A groan escaped the blowee’s throat,
poor Cary choked, and coughed, and spat
his erstwhile lover’s spill upon
the concrete floor. “Here’s twenty bucks
for you my boy, now let’s get on”
and Cary walked back to the spot
where they had met, to wait his next humiliation.