Dirty Rice by Donald Ammer

I stepped onto the train and could instantly smell trouble. Instantly and literally, as a whiff of cigarette smoke met my nostrils. It was late, almost 11pm on a Sunday, and all I wanted to do was get home. A rough day at work had made me tired and cranky and unfit for dealing with some asshole who actually had the balls to light up a cigarette on a SEPTA train. Sure enough, the car seemed empty; I was sure it would be, that was why I always chose it – to be able to sleep most of the way home, up to the Olney Transit Center.

But upon a closer look, I did see two black guys way down at the other end of the train, in the very last seats in the very last car, smoking cigarettes that were probably hand-rolled – if their giggling and cutting up was any indication. They glanced up as I entered the car and held their cigs out of sight, under their seats, as they sized me up to see what kind of threat I might be to their lawbreaking. Deciding the short, stocky, college-aged Puerto Rican dude, all bundled up against the chilly fall night, was indeed no threat to them – especially as I turned and walked away to sit at the front of the car – the two young African-American dudes immediately forgot about me and went back to smoking, putting their heads together for another round of what my grandmom used to call “shits and giggles”.

I hated smoking, in fact thought smokers some of the rudest people on this earth – but it was two against one and as I said, I was in no mood. So I took my seat on a bench at the side of the train car, pulled the collar of my dark green Philadelphia Eagles letterman jacket up around my neck and face, and hunkered down for my nap, wishing I could just crawl into bed as the train pulled at last from the City Hall station in Center City, heading north. The brothas at the other end of the train car were loud alright, but I had enough nieces and nephews that it was little trouble to tune them out as the rumble of the train began lulling me into dozing off, just thirty minutes from my stop …

I was jerked away again right away, however, by the Race-Vine stop, which we reached in just a couple of minutes. Not knowing if I had dozed for sure or not, I cracked one eye open just in time to see a young Asian guy enter the car from the middle doors near me. Sitting upright again, my eyes flew open as I recognized him; it was the really cute guy I used to see on the train months ago, every morning when I went to work at the clothing store in Center City (before I gave up that suck-ass job) – a sexy-as-hell hottie who had me slobbering all over myself all the way downtown … and who wouldn’t give me the time of day, even then. All I knew about him was that he went to Temple University (so said his book bag), had a girlfriend named Lin (courtesy of a note I had read part of, over his shoulder, one day when we stood next to each other on the crowded commute in) , was called “Justin” by those who knew him well (the name Lin’s note had been addressed to), had an angelic face and short, blue-black hair that stuck up with gel on his head, to make him look even more boyish than he already did … and also that he was one stuck up dude, refusing to even crack a smile on any of the six or seven times I had tried to start up a conversation. When I switched jobs I had thought for sure I had lost sight of Justin forever; now here he was, on my train, all ego as his almond-shaped eyes shifted first toward the two black dudes smoking at the back … then turned to face me on his right. Evidently deciding that cigarette smoke was preferable to the outrageous idea that I might actually dare to speak to him again, Justin turned away from and walked toward the smoking brothas in the back, taking his own seat about halfway down the car, on the opposite side of the car from me so that I could fully see him … but be too far away to attempt yet another conversation.

Fuck you, straight boy, I thought to myself, hunkering down in my seat again as the train slowly chugged to once more, leaving the Race-Vine stop behind. I had a thing for Asian men – and yeah, Justin was a kid I would have fucked six ways to Sunday, if given a chance. But nothing turns me off faster than an over-inflated ego, and as cute as he was Justin had no right to act better than me – or anyone else, for that matter.

I closed my eyes again, just as Justin was pulling a copy of Car & Driver magazine from his book bag, and started to doze – trying to ignore how turned on the stuck-up little prick was making me feel.

I couldn’t have been out more than two minutes when I heard the shout:

“Wha’ the FUCK are you starin’ at, bitch??”

My eyes jerked open, darting to my left. Justin was hunched over his magazine, at first I though appearing casual … but then I noticed that his narrow shoulders were tight with tension – head a little too still as he stared down at the open magazine.

Down at the end of the car, one of the Black dudes – the taller, huskier brotha, dressed all in black RocaWear and a do-rag – had risen to his feet and was staring angrily up the half-length of the car at Justin. The look in his young eyes was wild; the dude royally pissed.

I cracked my eyes again, trying to appear asleep as I watched the action. You live in the Big City long enough, you learn the #1 commandment in such situations: Don’t Get Involved.

“Yo, bitch!!” the tall nigga yelled again, in Justin’s direction, big hands curling up into fists at his side. “You got somethin’ to say about us, ya fuckin’ prick??”

Justin remained solid as rock, frozen with terror in his position over the magazine.

“I didn’t think so!” the brotha yelled, as his shorter, uglier buddy laughed.“Yo, Derek, sit down man,” he said, voice slurred. “Dude ain’t worth it, man.”

“Naw, man fuck that bitch!” Derek replied, turning to face his friend before taking a step or two back toward the end of the car. “He cain’t make them fuckin’ faces at us and get tha fuck away with it!” But Derek did as he was told, flopping back down next to his friend, who was trying to shush him.

Uh-HUH, I thought to myself, eyes closing again. That’s what you get, Justin, when you make that holier-than-thou face to the wrong people.

My eyes drifted shut.

I woke up again, unsure of when, and the first thing I noticed was that the train had come to a complete stop. Glancing up to see what stop we were at – hoping I hadn’t slept through mine – I noticed nothing but inky darkness out the train car window opposite me. I turned sharply, glancing out my own window behind me – again, blackness.

We had stopped in the middle of a tunnel. Something, evidently, had gone wrong with the train.

And as if on cue to my thoughts, the announcement came over the loudspeaker right at that moment:

“Folks it seems like there’s a stalled train on the tracks up ahead,” the deep conductor’s voice boomed. “Not sure how long we’re going to be here, but just sit tight and we’ll be going again soon as we can.” Oh, shit. Stuck. God, I hate when that happens – am always worried it’ll be when I most have to use the john. Glancing around, I saw that there were still only the four of us on the train … only now, Derek was up and moving again, slowly heading toward where Justin sat halfway up the train, his hands in the pockets of his oversized RocaWear jeans. Behind him, his little, runt-faced buddy – who was actually much cuter, the closer he got – followed cautiously behind, keeping a watchful eye on his taller, stronger, more thuggish friend as the two passed under the yellowing fluorescent lights toward their prey. Derek slid onto the bench seat across from Justin, never taking his eyes off the kid as the young, pretty Asian boy continued to pretend to read his magazine.

“You better than us, Chinese boy?” Derek asked in a low, husky voice full of menace. His eyes were huge, wide, whites showing all around the pupils as he asked the question. “You make that face because we’s BLACK??”

The racial slur made Justin find a bit of courage; still clutching his magazine in knuckles that had gone white with tension, he looked up slowly to meet Derek’s gaze – trying to match the bigger man’s intensity … and failing.

“I’m Korean, and I’m not a boy,” he said softly, in a monotone that somehow still managed to sound superior. “And I only looked over at you because the smell of smoke was making me sick.”

Derek’s alligator gaze didn’t flinch, but I saw him shift in his seat, and knew the reply hadn’t exactly made him happy. I quickly closed my eyes to slits again, pretending to have fallen asleep, just as Derek turned his head to look in both directions, up and down the car, for potential witnesses. Finding only me, he shifted his cold, dark eyes back to Justin again.

“You a man, huh?” he said, mouth tight. “You a man, fight like a man. Come on, get yo’ ass up off dat bench … man.” Derek’s little friend, who had sat down again, now jumped up and moved to stand in next to Derek. “Come on, bruh, leave the dude alone. It’s just the smokes, man ..”

“Calvin, man, shut the fuck up!” Derek shouted, rising. “This little bitch looked at us like we was shit on his shoe, man!” Pushing Calvin aside, Derek had crossed the car in one step to grab Justin by the collar of the Asian kid’s brown suede jacket. He hauled the startled Korean student to his feet with one pull, Justin’s book bag and magazine sliding to the train car floor. Standing, Justin was easily four or five inches shorter than Derek, and maybe forty pounds lighter. My body tensed as I tried to figure out what to do, if I could or should help. If I reached for my cell, I would get pulled into the fight – and maybe get seriously hurt. If I bolted for the train car door just inches from me and ran got through it, running up and through the train cars until I found help .. Justin might well be dead, or hospital-worthy, by the time I got back with someone.

I tried to relax, still appearing asleep as I watched to see where this would go first, before making a decision how – or if – to act.

All the color had drained from Justin’s face as Derek pulled him to a standing position, so high that Justin had to stand on the tips of his dirty white Reeboks as Derek literally suspended him in mid-air. “Put me down,” Justin whispered, voice hoarse and choked with fear. “I don’t want to fight you. I won’t fight you.”

“You damn right you don’t!” Derek hissed back, spittle flying from his lips to drizzle Justin’s face. “’Cause I will fuck up that pretty face of yours!”

“You best watch out, Derek,” Calvin said from where he stood behind his friend. “He might know some of that kung-fu shit. THEN you be in some trouble!” he added, giggling at his own joke. Derek turned to look at his friend, grinning, his right hand still holding Justin tightly by the coat collar. “Nah, this little Korean girl too pretty to know dat shit,” he replied to Calvin, chuckling himself. He turned back to Justin. “You know any other good tricks, though, geisha girl?”

“Fuck you,” Justin whispered back, through clenched teeth. It was the goddam-dumbest thing to say. With one small shove, Derek slammed Justin back down onto the seat with his right hand, the kid landing with a loud crash as his body went limp on impact. He started to slide to the floor, but Derek bent down to grab his coat collar again in his right hand … his left reaching into the back pocket of his black jeans, where it came out with a switchblade that clicked open with an ugly, six-inch silver blade that Derek pressed to Justin’s throat as the kid sat sprawled on the train bench.

Calvin’s smile was gone now. “Derek, what the fuck …”

“We’re gonna see what tricks this geisha girl got up her sleeve,” Derek growled to his friend, voice low. Slowly, he waved the knife under the dazed Justin’s face, until those pretty almond-shaped eyes opened wide and he knew Justin had seen it. Wheezing and gasping for breath, Justin allowed himself to be hauled roughly to his feet again.

“You too pretty for a man, geisha girl,” Derek told him softly, voice thick with anger. “But you still got a big mouth.” He placed his free right hand hard on Justin’s left shoulder, pushing the kid down. “You just get on yo’ knees and show us some yo’ geisha tricks, maybe we’ll forget about cutting up that pretty face a yours.”

“Derek …”

“Get the fuck over here, Calvin!” Derek hissed, his eyes crazy. Calvin stepped over as Derek’s strength forced the dazed Justin to his knees – the Korean dude not even 100% aware of what was happening, as I sat horrified and helpless, feigning sleep … even as I realized, to my own disgusted shock and surprise, that my cock was starting to come alive inside my baggy jeans, growing harder by the second as Derek barked at Calvin for the shorter dude to take his cock out of his pants.

Calvin did so, Derek holding the knife centimeters from Justin’s throat in his right hand, as he pushed on Calvin’s back with his left until Calving stood straight in front of the kneeling Asian kid – his soft, ebony prick no more than an inch from Justin’s small, thin mouth. Justin’s eyes were still closed, but a soft whack to the head from Derek’s palm brought the Asian dude back to life – his exotic eyes bulging wide when he saw that dark-as-night black cock bobbing in the air before him.

Derek pressed forward until the knife blade was flat against Justin’s throat. “Suck his dick, Korean bitch,” he hissed at Justin. “Suck dat black dick, and prove you wasn’t making no face at us ‘cause you don’t like blacks.”

Calvin was into it now, his young, squirrelly face alive with lust – cock growing hard already as he pressed it into Justin’s mouth … which formed a tight line, barring entry, until Derek pressed the switchblade deeper into the Asian guy’s young flesh at his throat.

“Suck dat dick, BITCH!” he yelled. “Suck it, or I slice yo’ throat!”

And Justin’s mouth opened with fear and disgust, taking what was now nearly a nine-inch black hard-on deeply into his throat as Calvin thrust forward with his hips. The kid gagged, choking on Calvin’s fat black nightstick as Derek stepped around and behind Justin – holding the boy in place as Calvin gripped the kid’s head for leverage and began to fuck his throat. Sounds of Justin’s gagging and choking filled the train car as I watched – cock fully erect now in my jeans – as the two brothas held the Asian dude in place, Calvin going hard on the kid’s throat as he built up a fast tempo, pivoting his hips and using all his youthful energy to ram home inside Justin’s mouth.

“Watch the teeth, mothafucka!” Calving snapped, batting Justin’s ear. The kid grunted, using his lips more, and began to really suck, his cheeks caving in as Derek repeatedly told him, “Suck that dick! Suck that black dick, bitch!” … and Calvin just kept pounding that young, pretty face, fucking Justin’s throat raw, black balls smacking like hell against the smooth, light-skinned chin of the Korean student as Calvin showed him no mercy, the young black dude’s breath raspy as he approached orgasm and relentlessly kept jackhammering down Justin’s throat – Derek laughing like hell.

“You like that, pretty Chinese girl?” Derek asked, over the sounds of Calvin’s crotch ramming home again and again into Justin’s face, as the Korean dude’s eyes rolled back into his head and his eyes squeezed shut. “You want some more, bitch?” Derek called again.

“I – I’m gonna shoot, nigga!” Calving yelled, ramming home again, fucking Justin’s face at super-human speed. “I … I’m gonna cuuuuuuuuuuuummmm!!”

And suddenly he was – Calvin shoved one last time, jamming his entire black boner down Justin’s throat with the last of his strength, his short arms wrapping entirely around Justin’s smallish head, fucking up his hair as he held the kid’s face to his crotch and shot, gasping as his load of thick white jizz released itself down Justin’s throat, Calvin moaning and panting, his body jerking as the seed in his balls blasted like a firehose gone crazy, shooting stream after stream of black man’s cum down into the belly of the young Asian – Justin gagging and thrashing to get away, but Calvin’s grip too strong, Derek holding the kid’s shoulders firm as Calving kept shooting and coming and blowing his entire load into the Asian kid … Justin powerless to do anything but drink every drop of his seed.

“FUCK!!” Calvin screamed, gasping as – balls drained – he finally let go and stumbled back, falling onto the seat across from where Justin still knelt. His cock, still hard and black and slick with cum and Justin’s spit, bobbled in the air from the open fly of his jeans, slowly losing its erection as the short little black dude lay panting for breath on the train car bench … one dark hand covering his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he had done.

Derek, a smug smile of satisfaction on his face, let go of Justin’s shoulders at last. He pocketed the switchblade again as the exhausted and violated Korean college kid slumped to the floor, nearly unconscious, his lips shiny with spit and Calvin’s jizz.

“It’s ain’t over yet,” Derek whispered, looking down at his new toy. He reached for his belt buckle. “We just gettin’ to the good part.”

The black, baggy jeans fell to his ankles, revealing athletic legs the color of dark chocolate, calves thick and strong as a football star. Pulling down his silk purple boxers, Derek revealed a fat, dark brown horsedick that curved sharply to the left and would have made Seabiscuit sick with envy. Bending down, he glanced around the car briefly – nervously – but still ignored me as he rolled the almost-unconscious Justin over onto his back, big hands yanking at the waistband of the Asian kid’s faded jeans until he’d hitched both them and a pair of white briefs off the kid’s pale, little round ass. Jerking the clothes down further, to Justin’s ankles, Derek pushed the kid’s legs together then straddled him, one legs on each side of the passed-out Asian student, his black dick now nearly ten inches in length and almost fat as a fist in girth. The dark anaconda bobbed up and down over Justin’s pale little ass like it had a mind of its own … and had a mind to cause some damage.

But Derek wasn’t ready yet – as I watched, he seemed to search for something on the floor of the train, then his eyes grew big as they came to rest on Justin’s fallen book bag. Grabbing it up, Derek wrapped his free arm around the prone Justin’s waist and pulled, rising the dude’s hips and ass a bit into the air. Quickly, he flung the kid’s own book bag under his crotch, then let Justin go so that he fell back down to the floor with his ass now rising slightly into the air … and closer to Derek’s monstrous cock.

A few items had fallen from the open book bag when Derek had grabbed for it, and the brotha now pick up one of them – a small, sealed tub of honey, like the kind they give you in a fast food place for your chicken nuggets, or tea. Grinning wildly now, Derek tore the top of the little tub off with his teeth, then tipped it so that pure, golden honey drizzled out … and all over his dick, covering it in sticky goo that also dribble down onto Justin’s pale, shivering asscheeeks.

“Fuck me, this IS gonna be fun,” Derek whispered, as the sweet honey coated his humongous cock, turning it an even darker brown even as he shifted his position again – so that his cock lined up perfectly with Justin’s asshole, which now was getting doused in honey as well.

Grabbing his dick, Derek’s lower body went up on his tip-toes as he pressed forward, feeling out between Justin’s tightly-closed legs with his thick fingers, finally entering the kid’s asshole as Justin grunted in shock and Derek didn’t give a fuck. Once he found it, he rammed forward with his hips – hard - and I shot my own load of cum into my jeans, without even touching myself, as Derek’s elephantine dick found Justin’s cherry asshole and tore it open – stuffing the kid’s poop chute full and to the balls with black dick as Justin screamed, bucked … and was knocked out cold by a crack to the skull from Derek – who took him, raping the Asian kid’s ass on the dirty floor of the train car, withdrawing then pounding in again, ramming all of that boner home, fucking that little ass over and over, his speed building, dark honey squishing back out Justin’s violated hole as Derek proved merciless, slamming over and over up inside the kid, cramming Justin’s asshole full of black dick repeatedly until he was going so fast it was a blur, his own orgasm coming close … even as the train started to whisper and shift and move again, on its way through the tunnel and maybe five minutes (if that) to its next stop.

“Auuuuuuuughh!” Derek yelled at last, then slammed into Justin’s ass once more and I knew he was coming, filling Justin’s hole as his buddy Calvin had the kid’s throat, Justin whimpering as he came to and felt the first pains of that enormous cock buried all the way inside him – that cock which was even now filling his stretched, violated hole with sweet black man’s cream, mixing with the honey still squishing from the Asian dude’s ass as Derek moaned and grunted and rammed once more … leaving every drop behind and inside the hot little Korean ass he’d been so happy to abuse and rape.

“God-fuckin’-damnit!” Derek whooped, louder than loud, and suddenly rolled of Justin, his nightstick of black dick pulling with a loud squoosh! from Justin’s torn, stretched hole. The handsome Korean student was openly crying now, awake and in pain as he lie on his belly, body wracked with sobs as his hands flew to cover his face.

“That’ll teach you to stare, bitch,” Derek told him gruffly as he rose to his feet. Grabbing up Justin’s magazine, he wiped what honey and sweat and ass juices he could from his softening black dick, then stood and pulled up his boxers and jeans, zipping up the latter as he nudged Calvin – who still lay on the bench, face covered, soft cock hanging out his open fly.

“Get yo clothes on, nigga,” he told his friend, “we comin’ to our stop.”

The scent of man-on-man sex, of jizz and sweat and musk, filled the train car. I glanced down through the slits of my almost-closed eyes, and saw the front of my own jeans were stained a much darker, milky blue with jizz, and a small groan involuntarily escaped my lips as my eyes squeezed shut in terror – Shit, what the fuck would they do to me if they noticed?? Saw that I had been awake all along?? I felt the train stop, held my breath as I waited a moment, and then – only then –did I open my eyes … And blinked, confused and uncomprehending, at what I saw.

There was Justin, reading Car & Driver in his seat, dressed and calm and as conceited as ever. Not a hair out of place. I sat up, perplexed, and glanced down at the other end of the car … where Calvin and Derek, the two dudes I’d just seen raping Justin, were laughing and cutting up again, fully dressed and exiting the train at their end, talking some crap about this girl in school who’d just gotten a weave and looked like a dandelion stuck in a rainstorm … Two more people, an older white couple, got on the train and sat down quietly, not too far from Justin. I glanced up and out the window across from me again, noticing that we were only at Hunting Park – still several stops away from my where I got off the train, on the northeast side of Philadelphia.

Jesus, I realized with a start, I had dreamt the whole thing! Fallen asleep and dreamt the entire rape of this stuck up little Asian kid, who I had lusted after for months though he wouldn’t give me the time of day. A dream in which I’d … what, gotten my revenge on him for being such a snooty prick?

And that’s when I saw it; glanced down and realized that part of the dream had indeed been real when I saw the dark blue stain of milky pre-cum still spreading across the crotch of my pants like India ink.

Fuck! my brain yelled, but there was nothing I could do; my jacket wasn’t long enough to cover it, and I had no handkerchief of napkins. Fuck!! I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs. I would be home soon. Meanwhile, I could feel the heat creeping up in my face and knew I was blushing stark red. Nervously, I glanced around the car for something to look at, even some dumb advertisement to take my mind off my embarrassing humiliation …

“Excuse me.”

I glanced around, up, and thought I was still dreaming when I found Justin standing over me. He was grinning, his pretty-boy face glowing as he smiled down at me.

“I thought you could use these,” he said, and handed me a wad of paper napkins from McDonald’s. I blinked, face really going red now, and was barely to grunt a thanks as he nodded and turned back toward his seat.

“Don’t mess up the top one too much,” he added, over his shoulder, then grabbed up his book bag and magazine and exited the stop we’d just come to, glancing at me with another smile as he left the train.

I looked down in my lap. The smell of my own cum was overwhelming, powerful, but it didn’t distract me from seeing that he’d written a phone number on the topmost napkin. His cell number.

I sat in stunned silence, for two more stops until the train reached Olney. Once there, I shoved the entire wad of napkins into my jacket pocket, not caring who saw the mess that was drying on the front of my jeans as I dazedly exited the train.

A dream. A horny, disgusting, vile, hot-as-motherfucking-hell dream … Which had, in turn, led to a warm, sticky, sensual, almost romantic dream-come-true-at-last. Personally, I preferred the latter. Though I’d do my best to explore the former –

As soon as Justin would let me.



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