Streets to Sheets | Meet Carter: I know what I'm getting myself into

Everyone is over the age of 18

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From Carter’s POV:

Jesus Christ it’s cold. 

I didn't give a flying fuck about the weather before. It didn't matter if it was a heat wave or pouring rain, because I was high as balls and inside my room anyways. 

But on the streets? I be watching those clouds like a damn scientist, trying to figure out what's coming next so I can do something about it. 

And from the looks of it, it's going to rain tonight. It's been spitting here and there, but I could feel it. Tonight's gonna be bad. 

Everyone has a strategy on the streets. I’m not too proud to beg and shit, but it's not enough to survive out here. Believe it or not, I used to be quite a looker before all my fuckeries. I wasn't about to be the next Instagram model or nothin’ but I didn't do poorly with them ladies either. That was one of my problems even. Maybe if Steph didn't get knocked up then my parents wouldn't have kicked me out. 

And if that didn't happen, then maybe I wouldn't be out here using the gifts they gave me to my advantage.

It's usually older women. I like this spot by the sandwich place because it's the people who don't pack lunch for themselves that come here. I figured that was a decent sign that they might be lonely or somethin’.

Sometimes I'm lucky and I find someone that lets me stay for a couple nights at a time. Sometimes I gotta close my eyes and think of something else, but a warm bed is a warm bed. 

It's not as easy as just flashin’ them a smile. Most of these women I charmed over weeks or even months. I chatted with them little by little each time, remembering their names and their usual orders. At the end of the day, I like to think we're both doing each other a service. They put a roof over my head and I make them a little less lonely for a moment. 

Tonight though, I got nobody. None of the usual suspects came by so in simple words, I'm royally fucked. People freeze out here, you know. It ain't pretty. 

I just had one play left. 

His name is Wilson. Nice dude, but definitely doesn't get laid. He comes to the shop every single day without fail so I doubt he has a wife. We have a bit of friendly chatter everyday, and I think there might be a flirty vibe from him sometimes. He’s one of the people that are more willing to throw a spare dollar my way.

Hey, I'm not judging. Only God can do that. And if the opportunity is there to not spend the night on the streets, Imma take it. 

“Hey Wilson.” I flashed a smile at him. “Meatball sub today?” It's the same trick I do with the cougars. 

And it works. He pauses at the door to think about what I just said. That's what always gets them. The fact that someone notices something about their lives.

And once I get them talking to me, I sell them my sob story on how I ended up here. It worked with him and he even gave me half his sandwich before he left. 

He'll be back. 

…I think. 

I was losing hope when the storm picked up. There was nowhere to hide in my spot and I was drenched by the time I decided to pack my shit up. I could always buy a coffee at one of those 24/7 diners. I just need to get cleaned up enough so they don't refuse service to me.

“Hey!!!” Wilson shouts at me from under his umbrella. 

Oh thank fucking god. 

Getting in their car always puts me in a bit of a trance. It's the fact that it's warm and there's something nostalgic about it. Like when your parents are taking you home and you know everything is going to be alright.

But I still have to play the game. I politely stood at his door and pointed out my dirty clothes. Wilson offered to do my laundry and a shower like them cougars so I took off my clothes. Strangely, he walked away. Usually, they watch me do it. 

The shower was amazing. You will never know this feeling, I hope. Imagine that first shower after camping but times 1000. I could stay here forever. 

You know when you get into a hotel room for the first time and it just feels… different? Yeah, imagine me having no privacy to jerk off at all out there. And then imagine me soaping up my cock for the first time in ages. Yup, it's exactly what you think. 

“Mmmm…” I sigh into the steaming hot water. It feels so fucking good. And this is good stuff too because I need to let one out before the real show. Otherwise it's two pumps and pfffft. First lady that brought me home was witness to that and she did not look amused. 

I cleaned out my foreskin gently. I haven't been able to do this for a while either. Everything felt extra sensitive down there and I can’t pull it all the way down when I’m hard like this. 

I wanted this part to last forever too. I won’t have a chance to do this again for a long while.

But with the soap lubing up my pole? Nope. The urge to release is too damn strong. I squeeze some more soap into my hand and then start stroking fast. 

Oh shit…

Oh shit…..

The pressure building is crazy. I guess it must have been at least two weeks at this point. Still, I try to tease myself to enjoy this rare moment longer. 

I let go right at the edge, letting the exciting feeling rush my body. 

Fuck yeah…

I give it another stroke, scrunching up my shoulders at how close I am. 

I have to do it more.

Another stroke. 

“Ah!” A moan slips from my mouth as I reach the tipping point. “Oh!” I watch my cock spit out a big creamy shot that lands on the metallic spout.

Too late. I grab my cock and stroke myself hard.

My knees wobble as the flood gates open, releasing weeks worth of baby batter onto the porcelain tub. 

Oh yeah… Oh my god… it just keeps coming and coming…

My legs felt extremely tired and I knelt down onto the tub. Some of my cum was immediately washed away by the shower but some of it clung on to the bottom. 

I lift my head and let the hot water rain on my face. I always feel like this after that first nut. That feeling of shame and regret and knowing that I royally fucked up in my life. I wouldn't be in this position otherwise if I didn't. 

Shake it off. You made your bed. Get up. 

Get up now!

It's showtime.