Back Alley, Outside Cukoo's Bar, and Grill, Flashpoint, New Jersey....
The flicker of a hot orange flame had met the end of a long thin white cigarette as a rather winded and sweat-drenched Charley Bayler took a moment to enjoy his well-earned smoke break of sorts. It had been a rather hot night given the summer heat and he'd been working his rather impressive-looking ass off trying to scramble to do odd jobs just to keep up his ever-dwindling cash flow. He'd been tasked with stacking garbage cans for a bar and earned a couple of bucks sweeping and mopping floors, it was honest work for chump change but chump change he needed nonetheless. He'd done his best to make a life for himself but mostly ended up working odd jobs and sleeping in parks or hooking up with random people just to have a place to lay his head until he got his truck.
Now it had been his most mobile home until he managed to make enough to afford the camper he'd been eyeing at a local lot recently. The truck was a better alternative than having to deal with unwanted attachment just because some no-brain chick or weak-willed dude caught feelings due to their addiction to his cock. As impressive as it was, Charley had not known what they all found so spectacular about it.
Taking a few drags from his newly lit cigarette, Charley wiped the sweat from his brow courtesy of his messy unkempt brown locks and took in the sights and sounds of the city. He'd been as far from D.C. and The Batemans as he had hoped to be but they had not been far from his mind whenever he thought back to how things ended with them, or the fact that he could possibly have gotten Holly and Jen Bateman pregnant on purpose.
He always rationalized it as them no longer being his problem and turned his attention to the present and what he had in terms of plans for the here and now. It had been months since he'd left D.C. and ventured to New Jersey and he'd been having a hell of a time adjusting since then.
It had surprised him, to say the least, that his apparent tendency to gravitate toward bending over younger men had not dissipated since he'd been released from prison, his cock had not been picky in that regard so long as he got off. Of course, Charley had been one that lacked the simple aspects of affection, finding that he'd tried it in the past and it only ended up causing him a good deal of heartache ala Tiffany.
Charley took another drag of his cigarette and let the puff of smoke dissipate from his mouth and nose as he set to work looking over the cans he'd stacked and estimating how much cash he'd earn for the night. It might have just been enough to get a room at a sleazy motel and a hot meal, maybe even some booze if he'd been lucky.
He put his cigarette back between his lips and attempted to continue his work when the sound of a rather loud and dangerous commotion in the nearby area and had been on something of a high alert. The sound of screams had gotten his undivided attention and before he could second-guess himself, Charley had been off like a rocket rushing toward the scene of what could have been a crime if he had taken any longer.
The alley smelled of stale piss and oil as he rushed unsure of what he expected to find but his adrenaline kept him going nonetheless. The heat of the night seemed to intensify as Charley Bayler found himself happening upon the scene of a disheveled older man with his brown trousers at his ankles and his thick hands wrapped around the neck of a half-naked pale lad looking to be in his teens with short cut blond hair and terrified blue eyes. There was another man thinner and bald with layers of tattoos on his skin and his eyes were on the pale teen as well.
The scene had been disturbing in the alley despite the darkness and lack of any visible witness. The scent of stale piss and oil got stronger as they stood there each given to their own agenda concerning their apparent captive. The younger lad had been stripped down his ankles as well with his small pale cock flaccid between his pasty thighs and the small amount of muscle visible on his arms and legs not at all a deterrent to the two older middle-aged brutes who had been hell-bent on shoving their collective hard cocks into him.
From what Charley had been able to piece together from the scene, the two older men planned to rape the teen and despite protests and a show of force in defense, he found himself outnumbered and cornered by the bald man who had his pants down to his ankles as well. The blond lad had been forced to suck off the bald man and the larger man attempted to shove his cock inside his tight pale arse only for the ald to struggle to get away and get caught at the last second.
Charley had seen enough to have it boil his blood as he recalled his fate in prison and how small the blond lad had been amid the two twisted freaks who thought forcing their cocks on him would be a good idea.
Before he knew it, Charley was rushing ahead his fist balled and the haymaker launched before he could hold his breath catching the larger man off guard as he let go of the teen. The bald tattoo creep turned on Charley who had no problem beating him to a pulp as well before turning back to the heavier chump and kicking him where it hurt. They scrambled to get away terrified of what Charley would do to them now that his fury had been unleashed. It had taken a moment for him to come back to his senses, with everything happening so fast, and he turned to the terrified and bloodied blond lad huddled against the cold brick wall with his pants draped around his ankles and his average-sized pale cock embarrassingly aroused in the wake of Charley jumping in to defend him.
"Hey kid, you alright?" asked Charley not sure why he'd ask such a thing after an attempted rape but the lad wasn't a girl and he didn't think much of it at the time.
The blond lad only sat in silence as tears streamed down his pale cheeks. Charley walked over to the whimpering lad and pulled him up onto his feet and even took the time to pull up his jeans before pulling him close to him. He had not known why he did it, but he felt the lad needed a hug, a measure of human contact that had not been all bad at least.
Once the shock wore off the lad simply latched on to Charley's tall muscle-toned frame and gasped before he began balling his eyes out soaking the handsome older man's t-shirt in the process. It had been enough to the point that Charley simply let him have at it given all that the shaken lad had been through.