Gate Wide Open (2 page)

Off the Wagon
October 28
^th
, 2018, 10:15
P.M.

Boom!

I had hit the ground with a thud, but I didn't feel it. I was numb from the alcohol I was drinking. I had been sneaking off to this bar called Naughty's on Reisterstown Road. I had been cheating on my wife again, but this time with liquor. I had beaten the demon that was my homosexual desires, only to fall prey to the bottle.

Ever since I found out that the kids I have been raising are not mine, I just sunk deeper into depression.

I still love Mona, but sometimes I just can't seem to look at her. Ashley and Alex are sixteen now and are shining stars in high school. They are sure to go on to some prestigious college of their choice. Little Diana is ten and blossoming, growing more intelligent as the days go by. James still haunts me every time I look at Alex because he is becoming his spitting image.

“Yo, you all right?” a thuggish-looking guy said as he helped me back on my stool.

“Yeah, man, just a little too much to dringg,” I said, slurring my words. “Thanks for the help, partner.” I got back on my seat and proceeded to order another drink.

I felt my bladder about to explode, so I got up and stumbled to the bathroom to take a piss. I had been in the bar for over an hour and I already had five drinks. I stumbled my way to the urinal and whipped my dick out from behind my zipper.

I put one hand on the wall to hold myself up while I held my dick in the other hand and I relieved myself into the urinal. “Ahh!”

“Nice piece you got there.”

I looked to the left of me, still a little unfocused, and noticed the thuggish guy standing next to me, his tongue wagging like a dog in need of water.

“Yeah, man, whatever,” I said, brushing him off, and zipped my pants up.

“Man, you know you want this mouth on your dick. I'll give you a blowjob your grandfather could feel.” He moved closer toward me, the look of lust in his eyes.

I glanced around to see if we were alone. I looked him up and down and noticed this dude was seriously flirting with me in a bathroom at a straight bar. Built like a pro wrestler, this dude was a straight-up thug type dude that you see on the block hustling rocks. And I knew he was strong, because I could see his pecks through his loose-fitting shirt.

When I pushed past him, trying to make my exit, he grabbed my arm and threw me against a wall and kissed me with a deep, passionate kiss, forcing his tongue in my mouth. As his tongue explored my mouth, I continued to struggle for control of the situation.

He finally let up and looked me in the eyes. “Yo, come on, man. Let me help you with that.” He grabbed my dick and massaged it through my pants. “You know you want it,” he said as he again squeezed my now throbbing dick.

I looked around again, hoping no one would come in and see this dude grabbing my dick.
This muthafucka is serious
. I struggled even more now, because I was getting weaker by the moment. The demon I thought I had beaten was fighting to take over once again.

He then pushed me into an empty stall and forcefully yanked my pants down.

I was in shock and awe. This dude was manhandling me, and I couldn't do anything to stop him. He was stronger than me, and the alcohol had me discombobulated to the point where I was staggering a little.

He turned me around, bent me over, and proceeded to eat me out right there in the bathroom. “Yeah, man. This ass looks good,” he said as he parted my ass cheeks and played with my ass with his finger.

As he took his time and slowly eased his tongue in and out of me, my hormones took over and went into full throttle. I pushed my ass toward his face as he dove deeper into my ass.

After about ten minutes of him devouring my ass for a midnight snack, he turned me back around facing him and stroked my dick slowly until I was hard as steel. He then eased my dick in his warm mouth and slowly worked my whole length down his throat.

“Ahhhhh,” I moaned as he swallowed me faster and faster. I continued to moan uncontrollably, holding on to the wall, trying to stabilize myself.

With one quick motion, he took my dick in his mouth until his mouth reached my balls. I put my hands around his now inflated throat and fucked his face like a wet pussy, watching his throat expand and deflate. I finally reached my climax as I jammed my dick down his throat one last time.

“Oh! Damn!” I yelled as he swallowed all my seed without leaving a drop. I pulled out and let my dick hang as I tried to catch my breath. He wiped his mouth and burped, letting me know he enjoyed his protein shake.

“Thanks, yo,” he said as he got up and left the stall, leaving me with my pants around my ankles.

After a few minutes, I slowly pulled my pants up and made my way out of the bathroom. I stumbled through the bar that was now almost empty and noticed a few people staring. The music was now off, but I didn't know how long it had been off.
Oh, shit! I hope they didn't hear us.

I avoided eye contact as much as possible, hoping nobody had heard all the commotion going on in the bathroom. I quickly grabbed my coat off the bar stool I'd been sitting on and made my exit in shame.

 

I pulled up in the driveway to my house at about ten to eleven and turned the ignition to the car off. I noticed the lights in the house were on, but I wasn't ready to face my family yet. I reclined the car seat as far as it could go back and laid there for a minute to get myself together. I was tipsy on alcohol and overcome with emotion, and couldn't control either.

Here it is, 2018, and it seemed like I was still back in 2008. Technology had progressed some, but shit, cars weren't flying, and I was still attracted to men. You would have thought I was over this shit by now.

All the episodes of my past started to pop in my head. Meeting James in the parking garage, finding out he was fucking my wife; me fucking my father for screwing me up as a child and as an adult; him returning the favor at the fuck-fest James threw for me; finding out my mother knew about my father molesting me all the time, and the worst was finding out my kids weren't mine and that they were fathered by my fuck buddy, James Parks.

It was all coming back to me now.
My ass should be in a padded room with a straight jacket on dreaming about bunny rabbits or some shit.

After all that, I should be leaving this faggot mess alone, but it just wasn't that easy. It seemed like the more I tried to remove myself, the more dick and ass were being thrown at me. On my lunch breaks, in meetings, my clients were throwing themselves at me. I had to take my secretary, Renee, with me almost everywhere, lunch breaks and even the bathroom, just to keep myself grounded. She was like a bulldog, so I knew I could trust her to have my back.

But she refused to go with me to the bar, and tonight of all nights was the night I needed her to be with me.

 

“Um-um-um.” I shook my head in disgust with myself. “It is what it is.” I pushed the button next to the seat to raise myself back up to an upright position and made my way out of my brand-new all-black BMW. It was fall, and the driveway and walkway toward my house were littered with fallen leaves, which I made a mental note to get Alex to rake and bag.

I looked up at my house and thanked God for letting me arrive home safely once again. I was blessed beyond measure, but I wasn't acting like it. I was a very successful lawyer and needed to start acting like one.

I sluggishly walked into a totally quiet house. Everybody must have been asleep, so I parked myself on the living room sofa, cut the television on, and just stared at it.

On the Loose
October 28
^th
, 2018, 7:34
A.M.

“Parks, let's go,” I heard the guard yell as I packed up all my belongings. My ass was finally getting out of this hellhole, the FCI in Cumberland, Maryland.

I was sent to this medium-security prison because, according to the judge, “I wasn't a real threat, but I had a potential to be one.” I laughed to myself when he said that shit, because he really didn't know me well. I had some more tricks up my sleeve, and was still as wild as Oprah's hair at five in the morning.

The sound of my cell doors clanking open meant that I was now a free black man again after enduring ten long years behind bars.

The sentence turned out to be a breeze. At first when I got here, I thought I was going to have to fight my way through the time, but these punk niggas didn't see me coming. I had all of them eating out of my hands and my ass. I even had some of the guards on my “turned-out” sheet.

I pretty much did anything I wanted to. I showered when I wanted to because half these bitches in here liked it when I sucked their dicks off as good as I did. I was so good, they asses could see their ancestors when I finished with them.

I even worked the warden off a couple of times. His ass was weirder than most. He wanted me to fuck his ass with a nightstick while he sucked his own dick. That muthafucka was flexible as shit though. He even taught my ass some tricks.

I walked down the tier with my prison gear in my arms, waving my good-byes and giving daps to guys who I fucked on the down-low. I even saw a couple of hard-ass niggas with tears in their eyes as I made my way to checkout. I slipped a couple of guards the number where I could be reached, just in case they needed to hook up on the outside.

This is it
! I breathed a small sigh of relief as I walked out the final gate into the parking lot for new releases. It was really breezy and cold.

I looked around and saw all of the other guys being picked up by their girls and families. Kids were running and jumping into their arms. You could see the tears and hear the joy in their voices as they hugged and kissed their freshly released family members. I almost kinda felt like I was missing out, but that was short-lived when I spotted my ride home.

I made my way to my ride as he patiently waited for me to make my exit. I quickly hopped in the passenger seat, and we pulled off headed toward my destination.

“So how ya been?” I said, glancing at the now seventy-three-year-old Carl Black as he drove down the highway headed to his home.

“I've been waiting for you, baby,” he said, patting my leg.

Carl Black was a nasty-ass bastard that blamed his son for his wife putting him out. His old ass was now totally fagged out, and he was so gross to look at, with his skin all wrinkled and blotchy. His Cadillac smelled of alcohol and Ben-Gay, which I could hardly tolerate in the behemoth of a car. And the heat in the car was on, making it quite warm and dry.

This isn't going to be easy.
“Me, too,” I mustered up the courage to say back. Just looking at him made my skin crawl. I so badly contemplated jumping from the moving car to end my misery.

When his ass mailed me the letter telling me about my children, I knew I had to use him to get my plans in order. He was so old, nobody really wanted his ass, so he clung to me by writing and calling me to say how much he wanted us to be together when I got out of jail. He also put me on his cell phone plan a month before I was to get out, and I gave my mama the number as soon as I got it, so we could keep in contact.

He said he lived in a retirement community ever since his wife had put him out and was receiving social security benefits every month. I almost laughed when he told me I could live with him and we could share his eight-hundred-dollars a month check. I knew that shit was only enough to pay my car note and insurance. I proclaimed my love for him over the phone a couple of times to get him where I wanted him, and his Depends-needing ass fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I'd only played along and agreed to live with him, because he said he would help me get my children from Mona, and his son, Shawn. I really didn't want to raise them. I just wanted Shawn to pay for cheating on me with his wife and my bitch of a cousin, Sherry.

“Hey, Carl, I've been wondering about something.” I turned and looked at his senile, decrepit ass.

“What is that, baby boy?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How did you find out I was the father of Mona's children?”

He cleared his throat as if he had to think about it. “Well, after the party you had with my son, I was leaving out of the hotel and I ran into an old buddy of mine from college. He was one of the guys I messed around with in my experimenting days in college. We decided to have a drink at the bar, and one thing led to another, and we started to fool around as well. His name was Henry Grant and he was a very successful gynecologist.”

I nodded my head in approval of what I was hearing and signaled him to keep going. “And?”

“Well, after everything went down at my anniversary cookout and you were sent to jail, I started seeing him more. I wasn't in love with him. He was just someone to pass the time with. On one of his visits over to my place, we were in my bedroom, and he saw a picture of Shawn and Mona on my dresser. He told me that he was her doctor and that she had just come into his office for a paternity test on all her children. Since it was made public knowledge at the party that she had slept with you, I put two and two together and figured it out.

“He also confided in me that none of the children were Shawn's. He said he only told me because Shawn was my son and he thought I should know. So that is how I got the info to mail you. I knew you would need it to get back at that ho my son married. My son, on the other hand, should have left her cheating ass after he found out about it, but he didn't. I can't help what happened to him after he decided to stay with her. He got what his hand called for.” He shook his head like he felt sorry for his son.

Again, I was in awe of how delusional this old-ass fart really was. I didn't know he was this sick. I was speechless. For one of only a few times in my life, I had nothing to say, so I just rode in silence, contemplating my next move.

“I'ma need you to stop by the bank before we go back to your place,” I said, smiling at him while squeezing his leg. I almost threw up because his shit felt all clammy and mushy.

I had stored away over fifty thousand dollars for a rainy day. I knew putting that money away in that safety security box under my birth name would help me out in the long run. I had two birth certificates, one with James Parks, the other with
Jerry
Parks. I'd decided to change my name to James when I moved to Baltimore. I even had my crazy-ass cousin Sherry calling me James.

I walked to the teller and showed her my ID. “I would like to make a withdrawal from a security box,” I said with my “just-got-out-of-jail” smile.

She made a couple of entries into her computer. “I'm sorry, sir, but we can't find a box with that name on it.”

I immediately went into pissed mode. “Look, ya Cindy Brady lookalike, you better find my money because I know I put my shit in this bank.”

“Look, nigga,” she said with a little bit of sass, as if her ass had a little ghetto in her. She probably had a black boyfriend or some shit. “I'm sorry but—”

“Bitch, don't mess with my money,” I almost yelled, cutting her off, my finger pressed into the middle of her forehead.

She had a look of fear on her face. She looked like I was trying to jack her for her car or something.

“You know what they say, bitch—Mess with my money and you mess with my emotions. And my emotions is about to beat that ass, ya hear me? Make it happen.” I pulled back a little.

“I'm sorry, but I-I don't have a James Parks in m-my sys-system.” She stuttered as she looked to see if anyone was coming to her rescue.

Shit
! I gave her the wrong ID. “Oh, my bad. I'm so sorry, ma'am,” I said now, embarrassed. “I gave you my twin brother's ID who's out in the car. He's handicapped, so I carry his info around with me just in case he has a seizure or something.” I quickly snatched the ID up and handed her my other ID.

She punched away at her computer and handed me back my ID. Then she instructed me to follow her.

I trailed behind as we made our way to the room set aside for box-holders. As I walked a couple of people gave some dirty looks.

I had put on a little muscle in jail and decided to flaunt it. “What the fuck are you looking at?” I said to one of the patrons, who had the look of a person smelling something foul. I was bluffing, because my ass was on parole. “Don't make me beat your ass in this muthafucka!”

When the coward turned back around to mind his business, I continued on my way.

“You have a nice day,” the teller said as she sat my box on the table and walked away, leaving me to handle my business.

I hurriedly placed my money in my empty book bag and swiftly made my exit, looking back several times to make sure I wasn't being followed. I know I wasn't, but ever since Kenny busted my ass after having me followed around, I constantly looked over my shoulders.

I hopped in the car, and we made our way back to Carl's house. I was back on the loose, and I was loving it.